


Please Send Nudes

by Devral, DramamineOnTopOfMe, TheDevilOnioah



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Angst, But not between the main characters!, But not really!, Graphic Depiction of Suicide, Heavy Angst, Homophobic Hatespeech, M/M, Masturbation, No Underage Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Peter also has a laundry bed, Peter and MJ get into a fight, Peter sometimes does dumb things, Peter takes a dick pic, Phone Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, Really Peter?, Shy boi Peter, Slight dub con in relation to phone sex, Small penis!Peter, That's kind of gross, Transphobic Hatespeech, Underage Kissing, Unless you count phone sex, With each other, but it's Wade, child pornography, he just has a lot of feelings, we all know he come's back!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-24
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-03-13 11:51:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 62,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18940366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devral/pseuds/Devral, https://archiveofourown.org/users/DramamineOnTopOfMe/pseuds/DramamineOnTopOfMe, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDevilOnioah/pseuds/TheDevilOnioah
Summary: Peter has been crushing on Wade Wilson, aka Deadpool, for a while now. But when his friend MJ decides to take matters into her own hands, that crush moves out of the realm of the hypothetical and into the realm of pictures.





	1. The Dick Pic

**Author's Note:**

> This all started off a Prompt in the Isn't It Bromantic Discord server from MeganTLA. Thanks so much to [monsterleen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/monsterleen) and HaikuFriend for beta reading for us! We couldn't have done it without you.
> 
> We do have a lot of this written already and even more plotted out so expect weekly updates!

Almost simultaneously, MJ and Peter heave a heavy sigh as they walk into his room. It’d been four long years but they’re finally done. Ned is back with his family, celebrating, and MJ wants to stay away from home as long as possible. Maybe it’s pure exhaustion, but neither of them can help but laugh as they look sideways at each other. 

Peter’s room in his and Aunt May’s modest Queens apartment is crowded with books and experiments, and half of his laundry is hiding from May on his top bunk. Looking around his cramped and messy room with satisfaction, he takes to the ceiling while MJ wanders over to his desk and drops into the chair.

Peter moves over so he’s above the desk and swings down enough to drop his phone on the surface. He pulls his webshooters off, dropping them down next. MJ holds up her hands to catch them, but misses one as it bounces out of her grasp. The webshooter knocks over a cup Peter keeps his random pens in and MJ immediately begins to snoop under all his mess. Shuffling some papers around, she quickly plucks up a golden card with an unmistakable logo.

“Why do you have this?” MJ sounds a little weirded out as she waves Deadpool’s plastic business card towards where Peter has crammed himself into the ceiling corner. 

“Oh, Deadpool and I have just been patrolling together sometimes,” Peter half shrugs at her, “It’s not like we have a signal or anything to coordinate meetings so I asked for his number.”

“But that’s the mercenary that goes on killing sprees, right?” She wrinkles her nose distastefully, “Didn’t he steal your costume design, too?”

“I mean, not really?” Peter laughs, “He likes to pull the age card and insist that, since he’s older, I’m definitely the one who stole his design idea. But honestly, other than both being red, they really aren’t that much alike. His has a lot of leather, which must really get hot, but he never takes it off. And, uh, he has a lot of weapons,” Peter cuts himself off, a blush forming.

MJ continued to stare expectantly, “... and? The killing, Peter! I’m more concerned about the murders.”

“Well, he doesn’t go on killing sprees  _ anymore! _ ”

MJ looks sideways at him, face skeptical, but seems willing to drop it. She shakes her head at him before turning back. With a satisfied noise, she snatches his phone up.

“Really, Peter, you don’t have it locked at  _ all?  _ What if I were some random villain?” MJ flops onto his bed, flipping through the home screens.

“I don’t take my phone when I’m out superheroing! That’s what Karen is for.” Peter rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet, hanging down from the ceiling and stretching his arms toward the floor.

“Ooooh, what’s this, Peter?” Her voice is coy.

He looks over, confused, “What’s what?” 

When he sees MJ scrolling through his camera roll, Peter instantly flips himself down from the ceiling, throwing himself at the bed.

“No, give me that! MJ!” He wails quietly as she flails away from him, giggling wildly.

“Aww! Look at little Peter, all grown up!” She turns the phone sideways and leers at the picture. 

Peter curls up next to her, giving up on trying to take the phone away. His hands press over his burning face as he whimpers, “Stop it, oh my god!”

MJ cackles like a maniac but before she can make another joke at his expense, a quick knock comes from his door. Aunt May swings it open before either of them can react, and lifts an eyebrow at Peter’s bright red face.

“Aunt May!” Peter shouts, lunging for the phone and yanking it out of MJ’s hands. He fumbles and it lands face up on the bed, the explicit picture of Peter’s dick brightly visible.

Perhaps trying to redeem herself, MJ slams her hand down over the phone. Looking back up at May, they both strain to smile innocently.

Peter’s red face is probably not helping things at all. “I definitely saw that,” May says, unimpressed.

Peter tries to pretend that butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth, hoping that thinking it hard enough will paint the sentiment on his face, “Saw what?”

May points a stern finger at them, “This door stays open.” 

She eyes them for a moment before she turns and walks away. “Supper will be ready in fifteen,” she calls behind her.

Peter groans and proceeds to bury his face in a pillow. He jerks back up when he notices how silent it is and sees MJ trying desperately to keep a straight face.

“Soooo,” MJ drawls. “Did you take that picture for someone in particular? Or?” 

“I’m going to kill you,” is all Peter says as he finally snatches his phone up.

MJ leaves just before supper, face creased with a shit-eating grin. She knows Peter will struggle to get out of this one.  

Peter throws a middle finger up at her, safely out of May’s eyesight.

When MJ is gone long enough that Peter can no longer pretend he’s watching her, he slinks back into the apartment. Unable to look Aunt May in the eyes after the whole mortifying experience, he does his best to keep his gaze on his plate as they eat. 

After he’s moved his dishes into the sink, he wrings the dish rag in his hands, “Uh, I’m gonna…” Suddenly, he can’t not think about May catching them, “MJ and I weren’t-” he flails his arms around, unsure how to finish his own sentence. 

She stifles a laugh and waves him off, taking mercy on him, “It’s fine Peter, go ahead and hide in your room. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Peter shoots her a grateful smile before he runs down the hallway, shutting his door behind him. The card that’s now exposed on his desk immediately grabs his attention. He quickly shuffles it back under a stack of loose papers, almost guiltily. 

Unceremoniously throwing himself down on the bed, he stares up at the bottom of the top bunk. MJ finding those pictures on his phone was so humiliating. How is he supposed to look at her tomorrow when they meet up with Ned?

He slips his phone out of his back pocket and searches for the picture, remembering when he took it. Of course he had been thinking about Deadpool at the time, remembering the last time he had seen the other man fight with his katanas.

It’s breathtaking to watch him move. Despite his size, Wade is incredibly graceful. He makes fighting look like a dance. It’s hard for Peter to not just stop and stare sometimes. 

Peter can’t grasp how Deadpool does it. As far as he knew, the only mutation the other man even had was his healing ability. And while Peter can guess that the hyperactivity of his cells would increase Deadpool’s reflexes, speed, and ability to build muscle to the peak of human possibility, it wouldn’t give him superhuman abilities like Peter’s. Deadpool must have built his skill through sheer time and dedication.

Peter throws his phone down beside him, pressing his hand against his growing hard on. Thinking about Deadpool never fails to get him going. Peter pushes his pants down to his knees before he can even think about it.

All he can imagine is Deadpool standing in front of him, panting and out of breath as he finally decides to take off that suit. He imagines the mask staying on but Deadpool lifting the bottom half, revealing his grinning mouth and the scars standing out against his chin and neck.

He runs his hand gently over his dick, swiping his hand over the head and gathering the welling precum to help his hand slide easier.

Having seen bits of the other man’s skin through rips in his suit after fights, it’s easy to assume that the scarring is everywhere. The thought has him gripping the base of his dick hard. He imagines how Wade’s dick would look and feel in his hand, the need to come rushing over him way too fast. 

He grabs his phone, quickly swiping to the picture of himself. He consciously calms his panting, trying not to come with the thought of sending Deadpool the picture. He can practically see the smirk Wade would wear as he looked at the picture. It’s so easy to imagine Wade taking his dick in hand, jacking off while looking at Peter.

Of course, he might laugh instead. Peter’s an awkward 17 year old with zero experience at sex. He would probably end up doing something stupid if he actually ever got up the nerve to offer more to Deadpool.

Yeah, Deadpool would laugh. Who actually wants a random dick pic, anyway? 

Unfocused, he looks down at his reddened cock, beaded with precum. He’s just barely average. There’s nothing special about him, and he doesn’t even have the experience or the nerve to back up his fantasies.

Realizing he’s been moving his hand robotically for the last minute, he quickly swipes more precum down his length and speeds up. It takes only a moment to angle his phone to get a good looking picture.

The thought of Deadpool jacking off to a picture of Peter’s dick flashes through his head again and he groans, hand stuttering. God, Deadpool must be huge. He’s such a big guy, there’s no way he’s as small as Peter is, and the thought of the other man working himself until he spills to a picture of Peter is what finally does it for him. Ropes of cum hit the shirt he forgot to pull off, barely avoiding dripping down onto his bed. 

He gently strokes himself in the aftermath, almost flinching at the feeling of too much before wiping his hand off on his shirt. It’s already got cum on it, might as well use it for clean up. He pulls the shirt off and wipes himself down, balling it up and tossing it to join its fellows on the top bunk. 

He kicks his pants off and flops back against his pillow, looking at the new picture. He’s not going to send this one either. It’s stupid, why does he even keep thinking about it? He would at least start an  _ actual _ conversation first. Say hi, probably even let him know that the person on the other end of the phone is Spiderman. Then maybe he could think about some mutually shared photos.

Most importantly, the chasm of age remains between them. Peter can fantasize all he wants. There’s nothing that will change how young Peter is compared to Wade. Would Wade even be willing to be with someone who is still a few weeks shy of 18?

Feeling a weird mix of dissatisfied and sated, he pulls his blanket over him and tries to keep Deadpool out of his mind for the night.


	2. Do you like this dick? Asking for a friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our first Deadpool interaction!

The comic store that the group found themselves in is a bit out of the way, but carries all the issues that they could possibly hope for, at least for Ned and Peter. Typing away on her phone, MJ is barely paying attention as the boys carefully pull a vintage Captain America issue from its plastic wrapping. 

The three of them sit in the corner, the comic held protectively by Ned. Peter sets his phone face down in front of him, leaning over to look at the comic Ned is clutching. Noticing the boys put their heads together over the comic, MJ stealthily grabs the phone from in front of Peter.

“I don’t know why I let you guys drag me with you when you want to geek out,” MJ mutters, ignored by the boys as they flip through the pages delicately. She quickly drops the phone in her lap, crossing her legs as she sees the clerk walking over. 

A pointedly cleared throat startles the other two and they look up to see the store clerk looking at them with disapproval, “Excuse me? Wrapped comics  _ stay _ in their packaging unless you’ve purchased them. Are you planning on buying that comic?” 

Ned and Peter both guiltily shake their heads, Peter shamefully mumbling, “Sorry, sir.”

The clerk seems to have expected the answer because he goes back to the register, watching keenly as they rewrap and return the comic to its shelf. With Ned and Peter completely distracted, MJ pulls the phone back out and scoffs quietly when it immediately opens to the homescreen.

“Really, Peter, still not locked? I would’ve thought you learned your lesson last time.” 

Peter looks over, startled. “What are you- MJ, really?” He walks over to snatch his phone back, but she leans away too quickly.

“Nope!” she chirps cheerily, “I’m bored, I just want to see what you’ve been up to!” She flaps her hand dismissively at him, “You guys go back to looking at comics.”

“But- I- ,” Peter shuffles his feet, trying not to catch the attention of the clerk. The guy keeps shooting them enough suspicious looks as it is. 

Scrolling through his phone again, she chokes on a laugh when she notices the newest picture. MJ’s smirking look has Peter flushing beet red.

He sinks into a chair, hiding his face in his hands. Why did he have to take another picture? He should have known better! Why didn’t he at least lock his phone so that MJ would have a harder time snooping through his indiscretions?

Ned wanders back over, carrying a crinkled comic with a mark down sticker, “Hey, what’s so funny?” He looks curiously at the embarrassed Peter and giggly MJ as he joins them at the table.

“Oh, nothing,” MJ drawls, “I’ve just found some very interesting pictures on Peter’s phone, here.”

“MJ, I swear to god-” 

“Are you planning on doing anything with these? Please tell me you don’t have a list of girls you harass. Come on, Peter, I raised you better than that,” she huffs.

“Peter’s pretty into dick, too.” Ned offers, “Maybe random Grindr dudes are into that?” 

“It’s not like that! Those pictures aren’t being sent to anyone right now!” Peter throws his hands out in exasperation.

“So if you aren’t harassing the girls, who are those for?” 

“Hey, don’t you have a crush on Deadpool?” Ned shoots a sly look towards Peter. “The guy you’re always telling me about? Weren’t you going on about how cool he looks when he fights? All those muscles?” He snickers as horror and betrayal wash over Peter’s face.

“Uhm-” Peter looks between Ned and MJ’s expectant faces, his own now feeling so hot he’s sure it can be seen from the moon, “Well-”

MJ starts to giggle again. 

“No,” Peter shakes his head at them, “MJ, no, I definitely  _ don’t _ want to send those pictures to Deadpool, of all people! Of course not!”

“But I thought you said you wanted to start seeing him outside of doing the heroing stuff together?” Ned asks, false innocence so thick in his voice it could almost be cut with a knife. 

“Ned, why?” Peter softly wails, thunking his head onto the table.

“Oh, really now?” MJ smirks deviously over at Peter before immediately rifling through his contacts. 

Peter almost throws himself over the table in an effort to seize his phone back, thumping back into his seat with a wince when he notices the store clerk glaring over at them again. Peter is shooting him an apologetic face when MJ lets out a triumphant sound.

“No, no, no, no, no! MJ!” he nearly yells when he hears the telltale whoosh of a sent message. “Please, please tell me you didn’t just send one of those pictures to someone?”

“Well shit, Peter. You were never going to do it yourself; someone had to do it for you!” MJ is completely unrepentant as she drops his phone where he can finally reach it. 

“Oh my god, no! MJ, he doesn’t know my real phone number! He’ll think it’s a random person and just block me!”

“If you aren’t going to buy anything, I’m going to ask you guys to leave. There are customers that actually intend to spend their money here.” The clerk has apparently had enough of them making a scene. 

Ned glares, “There’s nobody else here but us, man! What paying customers are you talking about?” 

MJ shoulders her bag and brushes past the clerk, “Whatever, I’m done here. I’ll see you two dorks later. Hit me up when you’re doing something besides nerd shopping,” The door chimes as she walks out, leaving Ned and Peter to contend with the irritated clerk.

Peter stands there in shock. Every time he tries to focus his brain just sputters to a stop as he stares at where MJ had dropped his phone, white noise loud in his head, “Uh, Ned? I gotta go home now…”

Just as the store clerk is opening his mouth, Ned interrupts, “Yeah, yeah, I’m going to buy a comic, just gimme a second?” He gives Peter a half hug goodbye but before completely pulling away he lowers his voice so the clerk can’t hear, “Look, you’ve been pining after this guy for a while. I don’t know about the whole… mercenary thing, but this dude is a rare chance to be with someone who actually understands being a super. That’s worth something, right?”

“But he’s-!” Peter hates the way his cheeks are already burning again, “Ned,  _ everything _ goes against being with him! I’m not even 18 yet and he’s definitely a lot older.” He can barely keep his voice quiet in his frustration.

Ned walks over to the counter and slaps the comic down with a sigh, as if Peter is being the most moronic person he knows. “Then just go get laid, dude. He doesn’t seem the type for an actual relationship anyway.”

Peter gapes at Ned’s back before he quickly grabs his phone, “Um, no promises. Though I suppose I gotta deal with the fallout of MJ trying to help so, uh, I guess I’ll let you know how it goes.”

Peter is uncomfortably aware of the clerk’s newly curious gaze as he salutes his friend with the phone and follows after MJ. He is walking perhaps a little too fast to be natural, paranoia sending tingling up his spine, as though a thousand eyes follow him. Darting down the subway entrance, he’s both extremely aware of the phone in his pocket and trying desperately to ignore it. He’s certain that if he feels so much as a buzz, he’ll end up on the ceiling.

But no messages come through, not even from MJ or Ned. He goes the whole ride anticipating Deadpool’s larger than life form bursting into the car. 

So, by the time he gets home to Aunt May’s note about working late, he almost thinks nothing of the ding of a new message. Until he sees who it’s from.

Quickly slipping his phone back into his pocket, he decides to wait until he’s in his room with a closed door between himself and Aunt May possibly getting back earlier than expected before he opens the text. 

It’s not at all anything he was expecting.

 

**_2:42 pm_ ** **Deadpool**

💦💦💦💦

 

How is he supposed to answer that? Out of all the responses he had prepared for, this was not one of them.

 

**_2:45 pm_ ** **Peter**

_ I never would have expected a positive reaction to a dick pic, not unless it’s expected. First time for everything I guess? Look, I really didn’t send the picture on purpose. A friend got a hold of my phone and, I dunno, she thought it would be funny or something _

 

Wade’s lack of response worries him, probably way more than it should. Maybe it was a joke to Deadpool and Peter’s response was off the mark? He can’t imagine taking a random dick pic seriously. But when the response finally comes, he’s surprised again by Deadpool’s positive reply.

 

**_3:01 pm_ ** **Deadpool**

_ I thought it was prettyy hot no probs here! How u get this # btw? Who dis? _

**_3:01 pm_ ** **Peter**

_ my name’s Peter. This is Deadpool right? I got your number off a card _

**_3:02 pm_ ** **Deadpool**

_ U need me 2 unalive sum1 4 u? Need deets _

 

Peter can’t suppress a sigh, quickly backpedaling his thoughts with the reminder that he  _ is _ still talking to Deadpool.

 

**_3.05 pm_ ** **Peter**

_ No no no I don’t want you to kill anyone _

**_3:06 pm_ ** **Deadpool**

_ Thn y u get my #?  _

**_3:10 pm_ ** **Peter**

_ I wanted to talk? _

**_3:10 pm_ ** **Deadpool**

_ O so dick pic NOT a accident _

_ U want sum a dis _ ☠️💩 **L**

_ U a hero chaser? _

_ Y not ya sure  _

**_3:11 pm_ ** **Peter**

_ NO that’s not what I meant!  _

**_3:11 pm_ ** **Deadpool**

_ Ya lets do it _

_ Calling u _

**_Deadpool Calling_ **

 

Peter stares at the calling icon incomprehensibly. With little thought, he clicks accept and brings the phone up to his face, “Uh… hello?” 

“What are you wearing?” Deadpool’s gravely voice asks as soon as Peter’s greeting is out of his mouth. 

“I  _ really  _ didn’t-, I mean, it was an accident!” Peter stutters out, shocked.

“Are you saying no, sweetie Petey?”

“No! I mean- maybe? Wait, what was the question?” Deadpool’s voice over the phone makes all of Peter’s blood rush out of his brain. 

“What are you wearing?”  

That was the most cliched line he’s ever heard come out of Wade’s mouth, and he’s heard a lot. It makes it all the more humiliating when his dick reacts like he’s in the middle of listening to the best porn.

“Um, clothes?” Peter chokes out.

A sudden sharp laugh eases the tension. Peter knows that laugh, and finds it sounds just as good over the phone as it does in person.

“Well that’s certainly a start, Petey-pie. Are they sexy clothes?”

“Depends on how sexy you find jeans and plain white tees,” he can’t help but quip back.

“They were a bit of a one hit wonder, but hey, I’m willing to one hit wonder  _ you. _ ” 

“Just one?” A wave of regret hits Peter like a freight train, “Oh my god, no, nevermind, that was horrible and I should hang up now.” 

Deadpool hums, “Oh, I dunno. We’ve gotten this far. Is your mouth as pretty as your dick? Cause I just want to know what I should be imagining here.” Peter hears a low chuckle. 

“Oh, though, here’s a thought. How about me on my knees for you? Would you like that, pretty Peter? Just think about it. Such a power trip, yeah? Me on my knees and you choking me with your cock. Would you like that, Peter, would you like face fucking the unkillable merc with a mouth?” Deadpool’s voice is sly as he asks. 

Peter chokes on a moan as he presses his hand hard against his still covered dick. 

“That’s it, that’s getting you hard, isn’t it, baby? Got your hand on your pretty dick for me? Mm, I’m definitely hard for you. I’m looking at that picture you sent me, thinking about how you might taste,” Deadpool all but growls out the words.

Peter hears Deadpool’s breathing kick up and the unmistakable slick sound of someone jerking off.

Wade speaks up again, a purr edging his voice, “I bet you moan so good, too, all high and breathy.” 

Peter squeaks and pops the button on his jeans, pulling himself out. A wave of shame falls over him. He shouldn’t be enjoying this as much as he is. Deadpool doesn’t even know who he’s really talking to. Peter should end this before things go any farther, but just the idea of what Wade is doing on the other end of the phone has Peter so hard it almost hurts.

“Fuck-” Peter slides his hand over himself before the thought is even fully processed, gathering the precum that was already dripping down, hips stuttering up against his hand. He settles into a quick rhythm that matches what he can hear over the phone. 

Peter’s breath catches as he rubs his thumb across the head twice, letting out a strangled whimper.

“Oh yeah, baby, let me hear you,” Wade’s rumble solicits a whine from Peter, “Come on, speak up for me. Tell me what you’re doing. You doing that four knuckle shuffle?”

Peter barks out a laugh. He’s not even surprised that Wade would describe jerking off like that. Peter wants so badly to tell him, to describe exactly what he’s doing and feeling, but his words come out garbled. “Yes, I- Oh! I- I can’t-” he can’t finish as his hand speeds up. Peter tumbles toward the edge with such intensity his whole body trembles.

The moment Peter comes, he hears a high pitched moan and then he’s gasping for breath. He comes so hard his vision greys out, and as white lines paint over his shirt, he realizes that the noises are coming from him.

Wade gasps sharply, “Fuck yeah, baby, you coming for me? You sound so fucking hot.” Peter can hear the wet slide of Wade’s hand speeding up, each of his breaths ending in a guttural sound.

He bites his lip, trying to control the whines that are still escaping. For a minute, there’s just the sound of both of them breathing as they calm down.

Peter still hasn’t quite recovered when Wade speaks again, “Damn, Petey! That was definitely a fucking wonder… Was it as good for you as it was for me?”

“My brain feels like mush,” Peter manages, pulling his dick back into his jeans. As he zips, he wipes his cum covered hand onto his already soaked shirt.

“The best kind of mush,” Wade moans over the line before he laughs. “Hit me up if you ever wanna do this again, baby. It was fun.”

“I…” the offer completely blindsides him. All of his feelings of guilt and shame boil up but the thought of being able to do this all over again has his body reacting faster than his brain. 

“ _ Yes, _ ” the word escapes before Peter can censor himself. 

“Eager beaver there, sweetums? Don’t worry, once I grow back my balls we can go again.”

Wade saves him the trouble of an awkward goodbye, hanging up before Peter can say anything else. 

Before Peter can do more than pull the phone away from his ear, it buzzes with an incoming text.

 

**_3:28 pm_ ** **Deadpool**

😘 _ ne time bby _

 

Peter flops back onto his bed with a laugh, letting his phone drop onto his chest. He can’t help but feel like he’s in way over his head.


	3. That Was Definitely My Dick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Peter's confession, plus our first Wade Point of View! (White is in bold and Yellow is in italics) 
> 
> Thanks again to monsterleen for beta reading this chapter! We couldn't do it without you.

Peter doesn’t have the energy to even consider patrolling until ten. He slips into his suit gracelessly and opens the bedroom window to a chilly breeze. 

“Karen, text Wade and ask him if he can meet me on the roof of that taco place on Third and Washington. The one with the little umbrellas in the front.” 

“Of course, Peter,” her calm voice answers, “I assume you don’t wish to text him from your personal number?”

How could she be so sarcastic and monotone at the same time? “No, Karen, I do not. Really?”

“I just wasn’t sure, since you had a phone conversation with him on your personal phone earlier this afternoon,” her voice was just as calm and cheerful as always, despite the blatant dig. He would definitely have to ask Mr. Stark why he programed his AIs to have so much sarcasm. It just isn’t fair. 

The whole trip there he’s surprisingly not that nervous. But the cooler temperature does nothing to ease the excited heat pooling in his stomach. Gaining altitude as he reaches the inner city, giddiness swoops through him with each upward swing. There’s a lot of mixed emotions when he thinks of Deadpool, but after tonight Peter will hopefully be able to get everything off his chest.

He finally reaches the taco place. Touching down on the roof, he sees Parker luck has struck again. Deadpool isn’t there yet. He plops onto the edge, hanging his legs over the side. There’s nothing to do but wait. 

Peter’s minutes of bliss come crashing down at the thought of what he plans to do. Taking his mask off on purpose and actually telling someone his identity is extremely nerve wracking. 

He doesn’t notice Deadpool come around the left side of the building until he’s climbing up the fire escape. Peter’s heart rate is high enough that Karen chimes in, “Peter, your heart rate is unstable and unsuitable for a person your age. Though I’ve checked your other vitals and they appear normal.”

“Thanks, Karen. It’s called anxiety, and I’ve got a lot of it,” he mumbles as he watches Wade approach with a skip in his step.

“I can research coping methods for you.” 

“No Karen, that’s okay. I’ll just masturbate to my friend over the phone,” Peter deadpans, hushing himself as Wade enters earshot.

Peter decides that the best way to go about this is to confess as quickly as possible to Wade, who gracelessly drops next to him. The closeness is immediately distracting, and he doesn’t need Karen’s pointed flashing of his heart rate to know it affects him.

“Peter, how is someone whose simple proximity causes so much anxiety a good person for you to seek out?” Peter tries his best to ignore Karen’s attempt at mothering.

“Spidey! How’s it hanging this fine evening? Did you have a good day? Because I had the best phone sex earlier with this little minx named Peter. I think you’d like him, he seems like a nerd over the phone. Quiet and shit,” Wade starts chattering a mile a minute as soon as his butt hits the ledge.

“Hey, Wade-” Peter tries to interrupt him, hoping to stop Wade before he loses his nerve.  

“Do you have friends? I can try to get him to meet us somewhere if you’re lonely?” 

“What? Oh my god, Wade, of course I have friends!” To say Peter is offended is an understatement. Wade’s the one who can’t keep someone around long enough to even be a friend! And what is he doing, sharing what happened between them? That was private!

“I haven’t seen his face yet, but I definitely saw his dick and-” 

“Wade! Seriously, I need to talk to you about something!” Exasperation is so heavy in Peter’s loud cry that it finally catches Wade’s attention.

“I mean, do you really just tell people every time you have sex? Or is this special just for me?” Peter bites out the words. 

”I mean, the first thing this guy ever sent me was a dick pic!” Wade waves his hands wildly, as if that would everything. 

“Wade, you can’t just tell the first person you come across about the guy you had sex with! Did you- Did you even consider what  _ Peter _ might think?” His voice gets louder as his anger builds.

Wade tilts his head to the side, apparently listening to something Peter can’t hear before he shakes himself and says, “But I didn’t tell the first person I came across. I told  _ you, _ Spidey.”

Peter feels he’s in a weird game of Red Light, Green Light when it’s his turn to go still. Now that Peter’s jealous of Wade’s close relationship with Spiderman, and yet he,  _ as Spiderman, _ is both touched by Wade’s trust and heartbroken; there’s no way to casually get himself out of this mess.

“My name is Peter.”

“Oh that’s so cool, you guys have the same name! You’ll be such good friends!” Peter’s confession flies over Wade’s head. 

“No, Wade… That’s not-,” he runs a hand down his mask.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. This is probably kind of confusing to hear. I mean, if someone started talking to me about having sex with Deadpool, I’d be a little weirded out. I mean, turned on, but definitely weirded out, too.”

Peter wants to strangle him.

_ “I  _ sent that picture to you, Wade!” Peter grabs for Wade’s hand, gripping his fingers tightly. 

Peter can’t tell if the uncharacteristically blank expression on Deadpool’s mask is because of his confession or because of the physical contact. 

Wade’s presence seems to pull in on himself. He physically doesn’t move but Peter can tell his focus is no longer on the outside world. 

“Are you sure?” Wade asks, a crinkle in his mask displacing his features.

Peter knows that the question isn’t directed at him. He waits, used to Wade talking to himself after so long patrolling together, for the “boxes” to finish chiming in.

Wade suddenly whines and starts to rapidly kick his heels against the building, “Yes,  _ I know,  _ Whitey. That can’t be what he meant!”

“No,” He seems genuinely angry this time, “Stop it! This isn’t making it any easier to figure out. I think- Yeah, we definitely must have hallucinated that.”

Peter’s guilt comes back tenfold as he watches Wade’s struggle. He’s never so obviously argued with the boxes where Peter could see before. Peter knew about them, of course, but Wade usually kept his interactions with them to mumbles or odd silences. 

Wade rubs at his temples and mutters some more before bursting out, “Not the whole thing! No, the phone sex wasn’t pretend!”

Before Wade can get even more worked up, Peter tentatively interrupts, “Wade? You didn’t hallucinate. It definitely happened.”

Wade jerks at the sound of Peter’s voice, turning his whole body to look at him, “What happened?”

“I said that I was the one that sent the picture.”

“You- What?” The idea seems to have stalled Wade completely. 

Peter looks at him, taking a few deep breaths to work up his nerve. Finally reaching up, he pulls off his mask. 

For too long it feels like neither of them can move but he can’t back out now. Letting excitement overcome his nerves, he smiles and introduces himself. “Hi. My name is Peter Parker, er, again.”

Peter’s face twists into wryness as Wade’s gaping shock transforms his mask, “I’m sorry. I  _ really _ should have told you who I was before I let it go so far earlier. It wasn’t fair to you.”

“Spidey? You- What are you-” Wade’s clearly still a bit shocked, but Peter is anxiously waiting for the other shoe to drop, “Let what things go so far?”

“Erm, the whole thing? I wasn’t lying when I said that picture was sent by accident. And yeah. I said that. It really wasn’t a hallucination.”

 

* * *

 

“It really wasn’t a hallucination,” Wade hears the words but they still aren’t really making sense until Yellow suddenly starts freaking out. 

_ {What does he mean it wasn’t a hallucina- Oh. Oh! Oh em gee, it was Spidey! Hah! I told you he really said that!} _

**{Way to go, fucknuggets. You basically forced the kid to listen to you masturbate over the phone.}**

“Oh fuck! Fuckity fuck, did you even want- did I, uh- force you?” He sucks in a harsh breath and throws himself away from the edge of the roof, beginning to pace as he starts to remember some of what Peter had said at the beginning of that phone conversation. 

Spiderman is the only person who actually tolerates his presence. Everyone else that Wade has ever been close to has either died or been driven away by Wade’s instability. If Wade can’t talk to Spidey anymore, all that would be left was the boxes! 

He’d been left alone enough times to know that he would end up bingeing suicide scenarios, and his bucket list of deaths is almost all crossed off anyways. It’s so hard to stomach the idea of going back to that endless torment. Yet with one phone call, he’s managed to trash the first close friendship he’s had in a long time, before he’s even had time to appreciate it.

“Did I ruin everything?” He whimpers helplessly.

**{Do you even have to ask? Of course you fucking did! He called you here so he could tell you he never wants to see you again, let alone patrolling. You ruin every good thing you have.}**

_ {What do you mean? It was fantastic! Sexy times and we didn’t even have to subject him to our face!} _

“Wade, that’s not how it happened!” Peter is on his feet now, but makes no move toward Wade’s panicking form. 

**{God, this is pathetic. Do we really have to go through this teen drama bullshit? Just do Spiderman a favor and throw yourself off this roof.}**

_ {No! Now that we know it was Spidey we should ask him to do it again right here! He’d look so cute getting pinned down and fucked out. Who cares how much he didn’t want it over the phone. He’s here now, he obviously wanted it!} _

**{But then he would have to see our face. I don’t know about you, but I’m not feeling getting puked on right now.}**

_ {No he wouldn’t! All the big guy needs is his dick out for fucking.}  _

Wade jerks as the voices seem to get louder, clutching his head. “Don’t say that shit about him! Just shut up!” Wade’s head is throbbing now, Yellow and White taking over what’s left of his sanity. 

In the haze of voices, he sees Spiderman step closer. He reaches a hand out towards Wade and it startles him so much that he shoves his fists out hard and fast. Spidey barely manages to jump away before Wade’s hands connect with his face.

For a second the action silences both of the boxes. The next, both of them are screaming bloody murder.

**{Wow. Just when I thought you couldn’t get any worse. Way to go, Wilson! You gonna take up domestic abuser as a title now?}**

_ {Don’t hurt our Spidey! I didn’t mean what I said, I swear! Get your nasty hands off of our baby boy!} _

Wade staggers back with a sob, “I’m sorry!”

Peter steps up to Wade, arms coming up to firmly grasp his shoulders. 

“Sit down,” he pushes hard and Wade lets himself collapse to the rooftop in a heap. 

“Listen to me, not the voices,” Peter crouches, his knees hitting Wade’s legs. “You didn’t force me to do anything. Okay, yeah, I may not have sent that picture on purpose, but I enjoyed everything that happened after.” 

“But- but I forced-”

“I could have hung up on you. I didn’t have to keep listening. I definitely didn’t have to masturbate while I listened to you.”

A low whine escapes Wade before he can stop it. The thought of Spidey’s hand around that cock he so achingly memorized sends blood rushing south.

_ {I told you! Hah! I told you itoldyou itoldyouitoldyou so SO HAH!} _

Yellow is freaking out, almost covering the entire skyline in his gloating. 

“My friend Ned knew I had a crush on you because I’ve been complaining for months about my feelings and what I should do about them. Then my other friend, MJ, found out about my feelings, and she stepped in. Apparently watching me flail around helplessly about my childish crush is annoying.” 

Wade still isn’t completely convinced until he looks into Spiderman’s eyes. Finally seeing him unmasked, seeing  _ Peter’s  _ eyes watch him earnestly for a reaction has Wade reacting in all sorts of sexy, shivery ways.

This whole ordeal was a lot more than he’d bargained for. When he bulldozed that young-sounding voice into phone sex he had no intentions of taking it any further. Wade figured that if the twink decided to do it again, he’d get a call. If not, then that was that! Wade wouldn’t bother him again. 

To think that he had intruded on Peter’s privacy when his baby boy was usually so careful; he had pressured  _ Spiderman _ , the only super who had never treated him like trash. 

But Spidey had never lied to him before now. So since Spidey and Peter were the same person, then he’s not lying this time, either. And that means that he probably isn’t playing some kind of cruel joke, so…

_ {I’m not saying that this will end in unicorns and rainbows but… when we get married I want a five tiered cake and Nate has to be the officiant!} _

**{Hmph, I don’t trust it. He’s probably lying.}**

“Okay,” Wade scrubs his hands across his mask, ignoring the words of both boxes. He has to make a choice and he wants to trust Spidey. “But I still shouldn’t have done that. Consent is key, baby, and you deserved better than that, Spi- Uh, Pete.”

“It’s not about deserving. And I could have said no, but I want you,” Peter slowly reaches forward. 

“You? Want me?” Wade strikes an almost cartoonish pose, hands on his face in shock, “I’m a mercenary! I- I kill people for a living. You stop me from killing people! How could you possibly have a crush on a serial killer?”

“You’re not a serial killer, Wade!” Peter exclaims. “For one thing, serial killers don’t get paid, and I don’t think I would ever crush on a serial killer. I tumbled head first into a crush on the man you were trying to be, not the man you used to be,” he smiled. “I’m going out on a limb here, Wade. My friend kind of forced me out of the closet and sent you that picture. I wouldn’t have told you anything if that hadn’t happened.” 

“Glad she pulled your balls out from where they were hiding in the frozen tundra for me, Petey Pie,” Wade says, choking on his laugh. 

Wade can’t help tensing up when Peter’s fingers latch onto the bottom of his mask. He grabs Peter’s wrist hard, fully unanimous inside his head about this one thing, at least, “Don’t.”

Peter freezes, “I wanted to kiss you.”

“I don’t want you to see,” Wade knows what will happen when that mask comes off. The same thing that happens every single other fucking time. Weasel, who he has known for years, still can’t directly look at him unmasked.

“See what?” Peter’s genuinely confused expression almost has Wade doubting himself.

“I don’t make quite the same pretty picture that you do. It’s a dumpster fire under here.” The boxes’ agreeing remarks remove his lingering indecision.

“I’ve seen your skin before, Wade. I know what to expect.”

“You’ve never seen my face. It’s not the same.”

The pregnant pause seems to go on forever after those words. Finally, Peter nods with a small smile and takes a step back. 

Wade watches, bemused, as Peter pulls his mask back on. 

**{Well, you ruined it. Way to go.}**

_ {Nooooooooo!! What? Why is he leaving?} _

“Well, you still up for patrolling tonight?” Those words shock all three of them. 

**{What?}**

_ {What?} _

“Uh, what?”

“Come on, we could put in a couple hours of patrol, what do you think?” 


	4. We Don't Kill, Even When They Are Dicks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The patrol!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning!! This chapter is where the non con tag comes from, there is mention of and brief description of sexual assault! Keep yourselves safe, please!
> 
> And thanks to monsterleen for beta reading this chapter for us.

“Uh- Yes,” Wade nods animatedly. Then he freezes, throwing his hands up toward Peter. “Wait, no. Is that a trick question?”

“Of course not! I wouldn’t do that!”

Peter is glad to see Wade’s face quickly drain of fear before he turns a quick pirouette, “Then absolutely! Let’s do this! Do I get a spideyback ride?”

“Every time I let you, I can feel your hard-on against my back!”

“But your body is wonderland and I’d like to be Alice! And, shouldn’t that be okay now? We totally had sex!” Wade thrusts his hips, mask turning up into a grin.

“Phone sex definitely doesn’t count. And you’re more the Mad Hatter.”

“But it was so real in my head! I could practically feel your-” Peter slaps a hand over Wade’s mouth. 

“All you had was a picture and I barely even said anything!” Peter clamors. 

Wade paws at Peter’s wrist, yanking his hand down enough to talk, “But baby boy, I could  _ feel _ your dick in my hands! That’s basically sex! Your sexy moans built such a picture in my head that it came to life.” 

“Okay, stop! I’ll carry you across whatever you can’t jump, how’s that?”

Wade lets out a grumpy sigh, dropping his hands to his sides, “I suppose. That’s definitely not as much fun, though.”

Peter takes a step closer to the roof’s edge. “Well it doesn’t need to be fun, it needs to be productive. Having you grind into my back isn’t productive for swinging.” 

He turns around and crouches slightly so that Wade can clamber on and hears the running footsteps a second too late.

“Oof!” Wade is giggling like a maniac in his ear as he wraps his huge limbs around Peter’s tiny frame,“No dick jokes, Wade; I swear I will drop you.”

“No you won’t, you’re too much of a hero. My hero!” Wade swoons, his shifting weight causing Peter to lose his balance and stumble to the edge.

That’s okay, though. Peter knows how to stop Wade from talking. The building isn’t tall enough to get a good momentum so he swoops across to an apartment complex and spirals up until he’s at the top. He doesn’t land, only takes a single step on the cornice, and then lets Wade’s added weight drop them like a stone.

Wade shrieks like he’s on a rollercoaster with every dive and whoops loudly on each upswing.

The adrenaline must be getting to him because when they land Peter blurts out, “Do you scream like that during sex, too? I’ve got to know for, uh, research.” 

“Research, huh? Only when my momentum crams my balls into my throat. But if you’re into that sort of thing, I think I can make it happen again for you, Spidey.” 

Peter coughs and blushes, covering his face before realizing that his mask still covers him completely. He drops his hands quickly, hoping Wade didn’t notice how embarrassed he was, “Um, you- Uh. Yeah. You ready to start?”

Wade is openly staring at him, “You’re so adorable, I could stick a hat on you and call you Pikachu.”

Peter decides to plead the fifth. “Come on, let’s go.”

They run together over rooftops as Peter listens for any problems. It’s late enough that few pedestrians are out, some of which they walk home if they call out. Their first criminal is a car thief, but she’s young. Peter webs her feet to the sidewalk and does his best to encourage more legal hobbies.

“First of all, you’ve got the wrong tool. A coat hanger just doesn’t cut it these days,” Deadpool interjects.

Peter swiftly moves to stand in front him, “I understand that it may seem like the world is out to get you, but there’s a reason I became Spiderman! I want to help people like you,” He jabs Deadpool in the ribs, “We both do!”

“Ow, fucking weedwacker elbows- huh? Uh, yeah, yeah, enriching young minds and all that jazz!”

After Peter gives her a firm lecture he gives a final warning, telling her if he catches her at it again it will be more than a lecture, he’ll be calling the cops. She seems to doubt that he would recognize her but agrees to stop thieving.

Just as they’re leaving he notices that Deadpool is staying behind, whispering something to the young woman. It warms his heart to see Wade reaching out to troubled kids, he really does have a soft spot for children.

Until he hears what Deadpool is saying.

“Then, shimmy shimmy shimmy, and pop! Now once the door is open comes the really hard part…”

Peter webs his collar and yanks him up before he can finish, “Come on, you idiot. We’re supposed to be keeping crime off the streets, not helping it be more efficient.”

There isn’t much for Deadpool to do until they run into a mugging more than half an hour later. He whoops and throws himself down from a fire escape, pulling out one of his guns. Peter knows that Deadpool carries rubber bullets in some of his guns for patrolling, he just hopes that gun is one of them.

The mugger doesn’t give Wade a chance to do more than aim the gun, though, dropping the wallet he’d already gotten off his victim and taking off down the alley. Peter shoots out a web and slings the mugger into the alley wall.

“Ah, man! I was hoping to shoot someone tonight!” Wade whines. 

“Next time, DP,” Peter consoles the other super as he searches the mugger’s pockets. “Ah ha! Gonna get the police called on you on your own phone, buddy!” He pats the muggers face before he turns to the phone and calls the local police station.  

While Peter is doing that, Wade goes and grabs the wallet, handing it off to the mugging victim still cowering against the wall. “Here ya go!” Wade shoves the wallet into his hands and pats his shoulder roughly enough that the man almost falls over. 

“Uh… Tha- um you, uh, you’re Deadpool?” The man stammers.

“Yup, sure am!”

“I thought you were a mercenary, not a superhero?”

Deadpool pouts at the man, “Ah, I’ve been working with Spidey for a while now! I thought everybody had heard about it.”

The next hour after dealing with the mugger is nowhere near as eventful. They eventually stop running over rooftops and have slowed their pace considerably. Peter is starting to wonder if he and Wade should talk more when his spidey sense sends a jolt of alarm down his spine and a distant sound stops him dead in his tracks.

“What?” Wade asks him.

“Screaming,” Peter’s voice is tense. He throws himself forward and starts running over roofs as fast as he can. 

Wade is only a few seconds behind him, but can’t make the jumps as quickly. Peter reaches the source of the scream in a tucked away alley while Deadpool is a few buildings behind him. 

It’s a man holding a woman pinned the wall. He’s got a knife pressed against her throat as he scrambles to hike her skirt up. He’s grinding against her leg saying something lewd against the side of her face. Just as he reaches towards his own crotch, Peter shoots a web at his back and yanks the man past himself and toward the street entrance.  

The knife flies out of his hand and skitters down the rough cement. Peter flings a web like a bola at the man’s feet, pinning his shoes to the ground so he can’t run off. 

Peter hears Wade jump down just as the man starts complaining, “What the fuck, man, I was just having a little fun!” 

“What?” Wade’s voice is loud behind Peter. “Exactly what kind of fun were you having?”

“Man, she wanted it! Walking around with that tiny skirt on. Bitch was asking for it, flashing her ass at me as she walked.”

The sound of Deadpool cocking his gun almost drowned out the whimpers of the girl who had collapsed against the wall on the other side of the alley. Peter knew there was no chance a rubber bullet was coming out of this particular gun.

“Deadpool,” he doesn’t jump in front of him this time, scared that any sudden movement will end in a spray of blood, “Calm down, please. I know this is hard, but this lady needs to go home, not be traumatized any further.”

“I won’t hurt her! You know that! But this fucker needs to be permanently taken off the streets. That’s what will really help her.” Wade’s gun is pointed, unwavering, at the man still webbed to the ground. 

“He needs to go to prison, Wade! Lower your gun, please. We’ll call the cops.” Peter is trying to keep himself calm while also coaxing both Wade and the woman to calm down.

“This! This piece of shit! Shouldn’t even be alive. Doesn’t deserve to be alive,” the rest of Wade’s body seems to be heaving with his rage.

“Wade, look at me for a second.” Wade turns, irate, the whites of his mask meeting Peter’s. 

“What? Gonna tell me that me our boys in blue are gonna take care of it? Nothing ever happens to assholes like him in prison. Hell, motherfucker probably won’t even go to prison! It’s all so fucking pointless! Sure, have the police pick him up, he’ll be right back out on the streets in less than a day!” Wade’s voice is so full of vitriol Peter wants to take a step back.

He hears a tiny squeaking noise, but doesn’t pay it any mind, too focused on Deadpool. 

Suddenly the man throws himself past Peter, darting down the alley as fast as his bare feet can take him. He had somehow managed to slip his feet out of his webbed shoes. 

“Oh, think again, limp dick!” Wade is off like a shot after him.

“Wade!“ There’s no stopping him with words at this point.

Realizing this could get bad very quickly, Peter goes to follow only to hear a cry from behind him. The woman is biting her lip so hard a line of red is staining her chin. She’s still shaking from shock and tears trail mascara down her face. 

He turns toward the woman instead of chasing after Wade. He’ll just have to hope Wade can control himself. He moves slowly, hoping not to startle her too badly. When he reaches his hands out towards her, she throws herself at him, clutching at him as her body shakes with sobs.  

“Listen to me. Deep breaths, okay? I want you to count to four when you breathe in and count to seven when you breathe out. You got a phone?” Seeing her nod frantically, he waits for her to shakily pull it out of a skirt pocket, “Good. Call the police for me, okay? Tell them what you can, have them bring an ambulance, but leave the rest to me. They’ll stay on the phone with you while I take care of this.”

As soon as the woman gives an affirmative nod he darts off towards where the two men had already escaped to. Everything feels like it’s condensing. A smaller alley, with Wade at the end of it. Peter remembers just hours ago when he told Wade that he had a crush on the man Wade is choosing to be. And he remembers when pulling Deadpool off of criminals was an endless task. 

He finally sees Deadpool’s bloody red suit, stretched tight across Wade’s back as he hunches over the assaulter. 

“You’re a no good piece of shit,” Wade grinds the words out as he punches the man in the face repeatedly. “I will make you wish you were dead. Then when I’m done with you, you’re going to realize what a waste of fucking space you are! Nobody’s going to help you! You’re disgusting! The world will be so much better when you’re gone for good!” 

There’s a reason he’s so endeared to this man, Peter thinks as he listens to each familiar insult. 

Peter can hear bones crack as Wade’s rain of punches moves down. “Waste. Of. Fucking. Space!” With every word he smashes his fist down.

Standing up off the man, Wade kicks his leg out, ready to deliver even more punishment to the still body. Wade can be a bully to everyone but there’s no one he hates more than himself.

“WADE!” Peter shouts, finally shaking himself free of his horrified contemplation of what Wade is doing, attempting to pull Wade from his brutal beating of the attacker. Hearing Wade say those things, knowing that he’s said them to himself, makes Peter want to curl the man up and protect him.

“You’re just a disgusting mess that doesn’t deserve anyone,” Peter’s heard that before, when Wade didn’t think he was listening. 

A surge of protectiveness and horror pushes Peter forward, towards the two men. He needs to get Wade away, needs to calm him down.

“WADE!” Peter grips his shoulder with bruising strength and tugs, “Wade, come on. The police are coming, he can’t be dead when they get here.” Peter can hear the sirens getting closer. Close enough that even Wade should be able to pick them up by now. They can’t have this conversation here anyway. 

“But-” rage and sadness paint themselves in the lines of Wade’s mask as he lets himself be pulled back. 

“We’re talking about this somewhere else. Leave him.” Peter doesn’t bother webbing the man to the ground; he won’t be moving under his own steam any time soon. 

Wade only takes a step back once the police lights are visible down the alley, “Fine.” He stands next to Peter stiffly, watching the cops get out of their cars. 

Peter doesn’t hesitate to wrap a lithe arm around Wade’s waist and web them both into the air. Below him, the officers surround the man’s body, calling the paramedics over in alarm. Wade is shaking oddly as he swings them away and Peter realizes that he’s never cared so little about a criminal before now.


	5. Cause I’m A Dick To Myself More Than Anybody Else

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to monsterleen once again for Beta reading for us!

Peter flings both of them onto a roof only a few blocks away. Wade isn’t even on his feet when he bursts out, “It’s so fucking pointless! Sure, have the police pick them up, but they are right back out on the streets in less than a day!”

“He’s not some mafia boss, Wade. Besides, the woman stayed and she should be able to make her case against him,” Peter sounds exhausted, but lays a hand on Wade’s shoulder comfortingly.

The small hand feels like an anchor. He wants to pace and shoot and jump off the building but he can’t move. Instead he drops into a crouch, the sloped roof allows Peter’s hand to remain on his shoulder and he feels grateful for its support as the boxes’ rage flows over him and joins with his self loathing. 

It seems like forever before Peter speaks, “You aren’t like him.”

Every impulse comes back, causing him to viciously bite out, “I did that to you!” 

He hates how scared he sounds, hates that he can’t see Peter’s face, but he’s so scared of what he might see there. This whole ordeal would be a lot easier if he could just blow his brains out and pretend it never happened.

"Do I look hurt and scared to you, Wade?!” Peter yanks off his mask, “I realize not everything is so black and white as a creepy man in an alleyway, but I told you! I told you that I liked you before, told you that I could've hung up in a second. Would you have called again, Wade?"

“No, of course not!”

“Would you have tracked me down? Used your mercenary skills to stalk me?” Peter kneels down next to him, almost above him on his perch.

“I would  _ never _ .” The very thought of harming  _ anyone _ , let alone his baby boy, like that, makes his chest ache.

“You think if I was a random person on the other side of that phone that I would just stutter and go along with it?” Peter fumes, “I made my choice with you a long time ago, Wade! You were still killing when I started considering you my friend, but I’m begging you,” Bone deep weariness seems to smother his irritation. “Please don’t make me choose again.”

_ {My baby boy, oh I love hearing him beg. We gotta wrap him up and lock him in the big guy’s bedroom asap!} _

**{Drag your dirty mind out of the gutter. We’re trying to make sure he knows how much trash we are, not actually get him into our bed.}**

_ {But? What? No, why would we do that? He’s perfection!}  _

**{** **Exactly. And he needs to keep his perfect self out of our grasp. We’ll just ruin him.}**

“I still enjoy it, Peter,” Wade grips Peter’s wrist, “The killing… the dying. I can’t just stop it. Are you going to be done with me if I make another mistake?”

“I’ve never asked you to stop taking jobs. And I’m scared because you’re the only exception to my rules. I can’t be okay with you killing in front of me, but I’ll always choose you. I don’t think I could cut you out of my life for messing up, mistakes happen for everyone.”

**{He’s Spiderman... he can’t be serious! There’s no way he’s telling the truth.}**

_ {Uh, hello! You said it yourself. He’s Spiderman. Spiderman can’t lie!} _

**{Becoming Spiderman didn’t take away his ability to lie!}**

Wade doesn’t know how to respond. For the first time in a long time he’s starting to hope that something can work out. But more than anything he wants to cherish and protect his hero. When he stands back up, Peter moves with him. 

“This isn’t going to end well,” Wade says, because it’s true.

Peter meets his eyes defiantly, “How would you know?”

“It never ends well for me, Peter! That’s my whole fucking character arc,” he spits out bitterly, “Anytime something good comes my way it means something worse is right behind. I can’t lose you, baby boy. Nothing is worth the risk of losing you.”

Peter drops his gaze for the first time, “Then… it’s a good thing I’ve got Parker luck.”

Wade cocks his head to the side, but before he can question it Peter continues, “Bad things happen to me no matter what I try. I know how to deal with it by now. In fact, it’ll be a lot easier with an immortal boyfriend on my side.”

Boyfriend?

_ {Boyfriend!} _

**{I’m both shocked and appalled. I thought this kid was actually smart?}**

“I- you-,”

Peter’s laugh is like a warm blanket being wrapped around his soul, “I’m starting to like making you speechless, Wade.”

He aches to reach toward the humor instead of facing his problems. The fact that he can’t makes those problems all the more palpable. If he screws this up, he won’t ever be able to laugh and joke with Peter again.

“No, Peter, I’m not boyfriend material. Ah shit, that’s a good joke!” he shakes his head rapidly, “Focus! Look I’ve done this before. I’ve tried to be a good partner after the whole Weapon X thing. But when you’re  _ this _ fucked up it doesn’t work!”

Peter sighs and steps away. The loss of his hands on Wade’s shoulders makes him shiver with need. Peter moves to the very top of the roof, looking down the other side, focusing on something Wade can’t see.

“I never said it was going to be easy,” Peter’s voice oozes exasperation, “You just beat the shit out of a potential rapist because he reminded you of yourself. I already know that you’re… fucked up.”

He turns back to Wade with his soft Bambi brown eyes and gorgeous brown hair. The moon behind him is too bright to look at directly but Wade can’t help but move closer anyway, until he’s standing next to Peter, balancing on the thin edge.

“I’m sorry that I can’t just be friends with benefits. I’m sorry that I get too attached, but I want you. All of you.”

**{That’s all well and good but you realize that means you gotta show your face.}**

_ {Hahahaha! Oh god that’s gonna be hilarious! Can you imagine? It’s like watching Freddy Krueger and Belle the Beauty make out!} _

Wade must make some kind of face because Peter reaches out to put his hands on Wade’s shoulders.

“What did they say this time?”

He shakes his head, sidestepping the question. “I’m not ready to show you my face. It’s a shit show under here and I really don’t want to be puked on anytime soon.”

“I promise you it won’t bother me,” Peter insists. 

“You don’t know that! You’ve never seen it! My body is the literal definition of the blender threat before Chunk’s confession! You don’t know how many people I’ve had puke on me when they get a good look,” Wade‘s voice shakes.

“The Goonies, really? You know, I’ve seen enough of your skin that I can make an educated guess about what the rest of you looks like. It’s definitely not so bad as all that. Besides, I’ve seen you lose limbs, Wade. That’s pretty gross and that doesn’t bother me,” Peter teases gently. 

“I just… Baby boy, it matters to me and I just am not ready to take that step. Can you be okay with that?” Wade thinks this might be the end before they even really get started. Of course Peter isn’t going to want to wait. Wade feels so selfish, but he just isn’t at all ready to lose Peter. 

“Yes, of course! I don’t- I  _ won’t _ push you for something you aren’t ready for.” Peter turns to look down at the street again, “But… what does that mean for us? Do you want-?” he waves his hands around.

“Us? Uh, of course! Hell yeah, I want us to be a thing! Haven’t you noticed all the intense flirting?” Excitement and relief course through Wade.

_ {Is it really happening? Are we really gonna get to have this?} _

**{I don’t know why I even bother. The second he sees the landfill that is your face he’ll never want anything more to do with you.}**

“Well, yeah, but I just thought you did that with everyone!” Peter laughs. 

“No! Why would you think that? You have the best booty this side of the Canadian border, of course I’m flirting seriously!” Wade’s hands cup an imaginary butt between him and Peter.

“Oh, come on! I’ve seen you flirt with actual trees, Wade,” Peter scoffs, batting at Wade’s hands.

“It was a hot tree! And you don’t know. Haven’t you heard about Groot? Trees can be people, too!”

Peter laughed again, grinning over at the other man in delight. “So does that mean you’ll actually start using my number for more than just cancelling on patrol?”

That makes Wade hesitate, “Would that be okay with you?”

“Of course!” Peter’s eyes jump to him in surprise, “Full honesty, I was a little surprised I never heard more from you when I first gave you my number.”

Wade scratches the back of his neck and mumbles, “I mean… I’ve had people get pissed about how much I bother them.”

_ {It’s because everyone hates you.} _

**{Uh, did it ever occur to either of you that it might just have to do with the endless sea of texts? 500 a day to one person might be pushing it a little.}**

_ {No way! That doesn’t even make sense. It’s definitely just because they hate us.}  _

“Well those people obviously never took the time to appreciate you, inconsiderate jerks.”

“I tend to forget that normal people need breathing room. I can talk for hours and not get tired and eventually the people I’m talking to just start ignoring me,” Wade scuffs his boot on the edge of the roof, “Even over text, it can get to be a lot.” 

“I really don’t mind, I send my friends random things all the time. Pictures of cats, dogs, random memes that I find in the middle of the night. My friend MJ gets so mad about me texting her that she always blocks my number when she goes to bed.” 

“That  _ is  _ cute, but I’m serious, Pete. I’m scared I might run you off when I send 500 texts in an hour. The list of supers that have blocked me is more massive than Colossus’ dick. Cable and Logan didn’t even last a day. I  _ really  _ like you baby boy, and I want to be a good boyfriend,” he hesitates, “But fair warning, I’m a category five clinger. I need all the attention, all the time, or I forget you don’t actually hate me.” 

Peter smiles at Wade’s honesty and nods, “Okay, I really don’t think that will be a problem, but if you’re really worried, how about I tell you if it’s getting to be too much instead of just blocking you?” 

Wade nods enthusiastically, “Yes! Of course!” His eyes fall on Peter’s face, admiring the softness of his skin. 

After a moment of gazing at Peter, he asks, “So which number should I use for you, Petey? Mr. Peter Parker’s number or the number you gave me for Spiderman?”

Wade watches slyly as the blush turns Peter’s face bright red, “Um, definitely the one for Peter Parker. That one will reach me faster.”

_ {Awww, yiiiissss! More phone sex, let’s gogogo!!}  _

**{No, dick for brains! We** **_just_ ** **agreed to start dating! Maybe we should take things a little slower?}**

_ {But why? That phone sex was awesome and we should, for absolute sure, do it again, like, right now. Why even wait until we get home. No seriously, Wade, ask him if we can sex him up right now!}  _

**{Seriously? We** **_just_ ** **got done saying that we weren’t willing to show him our skin! Pull your thoughts away from our dick for just one fucking second!}**

“Well, then, boyfriend,” Wade reached out for Peter’s hand. “What do you say we call it a night and meet up for a date sometime soon? Do this at least partly right.”

Peter gripped back, “Absolutely. I was- I really was worried. I’m so glad you aren’t angry at me for not telling you right away.”

He suddenly leans toward Wade, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of Wade’s mask. He leans back with a grin, “Wanna combine patrolling with our first date tomorrow night?”

Yellow’s enthusiastic cheering almost blocks out White’s disgruntled muttering. Peter wavers back and forth for a moment before leaning back in. This time the kiss is over his lips.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Peter whispers.

Wade throws his arms around Peter, pressing against the side of his face, “Absolutely, let’s do that.”

Peter grins widely at him one more time before pulling his mask back on, “Tomorrow night, then.” 

He doesn’t wait for a reply this time, throwing himself backwards over the side of the building and webbing away. 

_ {Dreamy sigh… Love to watch him leave, hate to see him go.}  _

**{You can’t just say dreamy sigh!}**

Wade gives a dreamy sigh. And then turns away, too, and heads for home. He’s gonna need some personal time with his favorite unicorn after this, for sure. 

_ {Better?} _

**{Go fuck yourself.}**

_ {That’s what the unicorn is for!} _


	6. I’m Getting Metaphorically Dicked Down Tonight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you missed the title, there is more phone sex in here!
> 
> We knew you guys wanted it!

Peter swings into his open window and lands in the middle of the room. He quickly tugs off his suit and replaces it with a pair of sweats. 

Walking out of his bedroom, he shouts, “Aunt May? I’m home!” 

Peter keeps walking to the kitchen, only pausing when he sees the note on the fridge. 

 

_ Peter, took the night shift. Will be home in the morning, don’t get into too much trouble.  _ <3

_ -Aunt May _

 

Peter grabs a glass of water and heads back to his room, throwing himself into the desk chair. 

Should he text Wade? Is it too soon? Peter knows they talked about texting too much but he really wants to talk to him, maybe even have a conversation like the other day. 

He sighs, opening his phone and sending a text anyway. 

 

**_2:34 am_ ** **Peter**

_ I had a good night _

💕

**_2:35 am_ ** **Wade**

_ Lookin fwd 2 the nxt 1 _

💋😍😜

**_2:39 am_ ** **Peter**

_ I  know you wanted to take things slow, but this is still okay, right?  _

**_2:40 am_ ** **Wade**

_ Yes! _

_ U wanna talk or did u hve  _ 💡 _? We cud play 20 ??s _

**_2:40 am_ ** **Peter**

_ Ok, you start or me?  _

**_2:41 am_ ** **Wade**

_ U bby _

**_2:42 am_ ** **Peter**

_ What’s your favorite color?  _

**_2:42 am_ ** **Wade**

_ Red. Whts urs?  _

**_2:44 am_ ** **Peter**

_ Mine’s red too.  _

**_2:45 am_ ** **Wade**

_ Sexuality?  _

 

He knows that Wade won’t judge him, but the words sit awkwardly in his head. He’d never actually said them out loud before.

 

**_2:46 am_ ** **Peter**

_ Bisexual _

_ Yours?  _

**_2:47 am_ ** **Wade**

_ Pan  _

_ I swing ALL ways! _

_ Biggest fear _

**_2:48 am_ ** **Peter**

_ Dying _

_ Who’s your favorite super?  _

**_2:48 am_ ** **Wade**

_ Duh u obvi!  _

**_2:49 am_ ** **Peter**

_ Besides me, you dork!  _

**_2:50 am_ ** **Wade**

_ Wolvie. OOOHH or Cpt murica, his ass rivals urs bby  _ 🍑

_ Kinks?  _

 

He bites the inside of his cheek, thunking his head down onto his desk. He wants to answer seriously but the embarrassment feels overwhelming. He fights through the burning blush to imagine the time he saw Thor lift an eighteen wheeler above his head. Unbidden, he also remembers how small and flustered he feels when Wade stands close to him.

 

**_2:52 am_ ** **Peter**

_ Um, no? Maybe? I mean, I like muscles. And I like how tall you are?  _

**_2:53 am_ ** **Wade**

_ Size kink? Aw bby I cn def get behind tht _

**_2:53 am_ ** **Peter**

_ Yours?  _

**_2:54 am_ ** **Wade**

_ 2 many 2 count. Xdressing is a fave _

_ Fav position _ 😉 _? _

 

Peter scrubs a hand across his burning face. Only a few seconds later another message pops up.

 

**_2:54 am_ ** **Wade**

_ Is k, bby. Jus kidding _

**_2:55 am_ ** **Peter**

_ No. I want to _

**_2:56 am_ ** **Wade**

_?? _

**_2:57 am_ ** **Peter**

_ I can’t answer though. Since, I don’t really know. I guess just… on fours? I heard that’s the best for first time with like a guy _

**_2:57 am_ ** **Wade**

_ Wa t. _

**_2:58 am_ ** **Wade**

_.. Pete u never done it? _

 

Well, this was quickly becoming humiliating. Peter instantly starts imagining Wade helping him through his first time. But what if Wade doesn’t like it?

 

**_2:58 am_ ** **Peter**

_ Is that a problem? _

**_2:59 am_ ** **Wade**

_ Nah uh, no prob here officer. Def no problemo w that _

_ Ur q? _

 

The response lets Peter release the tension he didn’t realize he was holding. Lightheaded with relief, it takes him a second to understand what Wade is asking.

 

**_3:00 am_ ** **Peter**

_ Do your scars feel good? _

 

He hits send and regrets it immediately. He’s imagined those scars rubbing up against him so many nights it feels pavlovian just thinking about it. But the question could be taken so many ways. 

As the seconds turn into a minute, Peter’s anxiety spikes. What if he’s creeped Wade out? What if it made him angry? What if he isn’t as okay with Peter not having experience as he said he was? 

The ping of a text finally arriving sends a jolt of terror down his spine and he has to fight himself to not end up on the ceiling.

 

**_3:03 am_ ** **Wade**

_ 4 me? No _

**_3:04 am_ ** **Wade**

_ But u werent talkin bout me huh Petey pie? _

_ Ribbed for ur pleasure 🍆 _

 

Peter snorts with laughter. The rush of fear leaving him has left him high on pleasure in every way. The tingling of desire is starting to build but he ignores it in favor of enjoying Wade’s humor.

 

**_3:05 am_ ** **Peter**

_ That’s a pretty high bar you’re setting, Mr. Wilson. How am I supposed to move on if you decide I’m not good enough? _

**_3:05 am_ ** **Wade**

_ Bby boy, as if! Dont worry u wont need ne other man after Im done with u. _

_ My turn!! Toys y/n? _

 

The turn in questioning kind of confuses him. He frowns down at his phone, willing the text to change. He thought they were really getting somewhere but maybe Wade isn’t up for it tonight, after all. 

 

**_3:07 am_ ** **Peter**

_ Like legos? I like to build the specialty lego sets with a friend of mine _

**_3:09 am_ ** **Wade**

**🤣🤣**

_ No bby _

_ I meant do u play w/ urself?  _

_ Vibrators? Dildos? Fake pussy? _

 

Embarrassment washes over Peter so fast he nearly falls off of his bed. Of course Wade was talking about sex toys! Ignoring the urge to choke himself with his own pillow case, Peter tells the truth.

 

**_3:10 am_ ** **Peter**

_ I never have before. I don’t really own anything _

**_3:10 am_ ** **Wade**

_ Wut about fingers? U evr put those inside? _

 

Peter can’t take it anymore. It all feels a bit too mortifying to type all this stuff out. Seeing it laid out in front of him makes it feel humiliatingly real. A quiet part of himself admits he also wants to hear Wade’s voice say those dirty words over and over again.

He hits the call button, and as soon as Wade answers he asks, “Teach me?”

There’s a thumping sound over the line and a muffled “shit” before Wade’s voice comes across, “You sure you’re ready for that, baby?”

“Absolutely. And I want you to be the one to talk me through doing it,” Peter can’t control his blush, glad that Wade can’t see him. 

Wade moans down the line, “That’s just the hottest thing. You have lube, right?” 

“Will lotion work?” Peter’s blush deepens again, he isn’t prepared for this.

“Well enough. Might be a little sloppy, but the best sex always is. You laying down somewhere comfortable, baby boy? And don’t forget to grab the lotion!” The leer comes through clearly. 

“Yeah, let me-” Peter grabs awkwardly for the lotion on his desk, knocking his pens everywhere in the process, “Give me a sec.”

Wade hums. “What are you wearing, bee tee dubs?”

Peter looks down at himself as he gets up and moves, lotion finally in hand. “Um, just sweat pants?”

“You should definitely take them off.”

“I’m gonna-” Peter fumbles the phone as he pulls it from his face, trying to get his pants off at the same time. It doesn’t quite work, phone flying from his hand and onto the bed. He lunges for it, hitting the speaker button. “I’m sorry! I dropped the phone. I’ve got you on speaker now.”

“Even better. You’ll definitely need both hands for this. You got those pants off, baby boy?”

Peter finally kicks his pants the rest of the way off and flops on his back on the bed, lotion next to him. 

“Yes, and I’m in bed,” he’s breathless from the building excitement. He presses firmly against his aching dick, groaning quietly. “I’m already hard for you. You hard for me?”

Wade growls, “Always. Oh, but you started this phone call for something special, right, baby? I was gonna introduce you to the best way to play with your poor virgin hole. Grab that lotion and just dump a bunch on your stomach.”

“Just- what? Not on my hand?”

“Nope! We don’t know how much you’ll need and cross contamination is a bad, bad thing. You’ll scoop it off your stomach as you need it.”

Peter grimaces at the thought but Wade definitely has a point. He squeezes a handful onto his stomach, flinching a little at the coldness of it. “Okay.”

“Good boy,” Wade croons. The words send a jolt of heat through Peter. “Now dip just one finger in it and coat the whole tip of your finger. You willing to be flexible for this?”

Peter laughs, “Did you forget about Spider-Man’s flexibility?” 

“Absolutely not, Spidey! So lift one of those legs up all the way to your shoulder. Can you reach your pretty little flower easily like that?” 

Peter pulls his leg up. The feeling of exposure sends a flush racing down his body. But the rush he gets from Wade asking him to touch himself has him reaching down with his wet hand to do as asked. He gasps. 

“Just rub first; you’ve done that before, yeah?”

Peter whimpers quietly as his wet fingers slide over his taint before moving further to rub at his entrance. 

“Nngg, you sound so perfect, baby. You rubbing?”

“Yes,” Peter gasps, sliding his wet fingers over himself again.

Peter can hear slick sounds coming over the phone now. Wade is touching himself to the idea of what Peter is doing. The idea has his dick jerking, spilling out precum. “Wade,” he whines. 

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” There’s a rasp in Wade’s voice now. “Now gently start pressing with just one finger.”

Arching his back, Peter gently slips one finger into himself, just enough to feel it. He hisses out a breath. It doesn’t feel bad but it doesn’t feel quite as good as he expected. The sound of Wade groaning over the phone sends another jolt through him, making it all worth it.

“Your fucking noises, baby. Just those lovely sounds and the thought of you fingering yourself? I almost jizzed before we even really got started!” His voice sounds a little strangled. “Ah, but this is about you! Do you like it? Does it feel good?”

“It feels…” Peter hesitates. “It doesn’t feel bad. It feels kind of weird.”

“Keep rubbing, it’ll feel good soon.” Peter listens, slowly thrusting his finger once, then pulling it out to rub at his taint again. 

“Shi-” Peter gasps. 

“Yeah, that’s it, baby. Now press in up to at least your second knuckle and crook your finger toward your balls.” 

Peter follows the direction. Maybe the stretching sensation will feel better? 

“Oh fuck! Oh fuck, fuck!” Peter can’t stop himself from practically screaming as a shot of pure lightning rushes through him. 

A deep groan nearly made him cum right then, “ _ Baby boy _ . You should know better. Hearing you like that…” He cuts himself off with another groan of delight. Peter hears the slick sounds getting faster before Wade’s voice demands, “Now two fingers.”

Holy shit, what the fuck was that? Peter can’t help the profanity flowing through his brain as he does as directed. He scoops more lotion onto his hand, coating his pointer and middle finger. Pressing back in, his body spasms as he rubs over the spot again. “Ah! I can’t- What is that?”

“Keep going, Petey. That’s your prostate. Gonna make you come?”

“Hnngg, want you to- oh!” Peter’s voice chokes out as the pleasure starts to feel overwhelming.

“Want me to what, baby boy?” Wade’s breathless words are followed by a deep rumbling noise that Peter swears is a growl.

“Keep t-talking. Please, I love your voice so much,” he arches his back as much as he can.  

“You like my voice, baby? You like hearing what I want to do to you? If I were there, I would get my mouth down by your fingers. Eat you out so good.” 

Peter whimpers. “I’m so close. Please!”

“Ah, shit fuck!” Wade bites out, his words quickly followed by staccato grunts.  

Peter keeps curling his fingers in again and again, hitting his prostate every time. The sounds of Wade’s orgasm pulling him even closer to the edge.  

“Fuck, sorry. I fucking love all the sounds you make, baby,” Wade hums, voice thick with pleasure. “Grab your pretty dick for me, hm? Keep those fingers moving; it’ll be so good, I promise.” 

Peter swipes his left hand through the lotion on his stomach and wraps shaking fingers around his dick. “Please!” He whines, throwing his head back. 

“That’s it. Come for me, Petey.”

That’s all he needs. Those words finally kick him over the edge. A livewire of pleasure-pain coils down from his chest to his dick. For a moment, Peter can’t breathe, but Wade’s rough voice is a constant soothing murmur. Lingering aches and tension rush out with his orgasm. He feels almost like he’s floating in the aftermath.

“Peter?”

“Yeah,” Peter hums, eyes closed. 

“You… okay?” He can hear Wade rapidly tapping his hands against something on the other side of the line. 

“Yeah,” Peter smiles, “I just need a minute.”

Wade doesn’t answer but his anxiety is palpable, even through the phone. Peter reluctantly surfaces, looking around his room as if he’s never seen it before.

The mess on his stomach and between his thighs is quickly becoming uncomfortable. He reaches up to his top bunk, snagging the first shirt he touches. The shirt is oddly stiff as he wipes himself down. He wrinkles his nose when he notices that it has old jizz on it before he shrugs and throws it back up to join its fellows. 

Peter stretches luxuriously, arching his spine in a near perfect bridge. Dropping back down, he sighs, “That was perfect. Thank you for giving that to me.”

Wade laughs, “No, definitely, thank  _ you _ .” 

“It was my pleasure,” Peter leers back.

Without the heat of the moment, a different kind of shiver runs over him, goosebumps popping up on his arms. He shuffles under his comforter, humming in delight at the warmth he feels inside and out.

“Where did you want to meet tomorrow night anyway? Peter?” Wade asks, a smile in his voice.

“Well, we should pick somewhere close to where we usually eat and patrol. But, uh, maybe a bit more private?”

“Oh! How about on top of that building with the weird graffiti? You know, the wall that looks like a really bad I Spy book made up of bathroom sign people?”

“Over on ninth and Margaret St? I think I’ve seen it,” Peter has swung by there a lot during patrols.

“Yeah, that one! Oh, I’m so excited! I’ll dress up nice for you, bring you some flowers, some chocolate, buy you the best dinner. It’ll be fantastic.” Wade sounds ecstatic at the idea but Peter can’t help but think it’s a little too much for their first date. 

“It is pretty awesome that you’re so excited but, uh… We’re gonna combine it with patrol, right? Skin tight spandex doesn’t have a lot of room for flowers and chocolate. Maybe save those for a mask free date?” 

Wade whines at Peter’s words, “But I want the treat my baby boy right!”

“Just having you there for a real date will make it the best night,” Peter smiles. It sounds cheesy but the sentiment is true. He’s wanted something real with Wade for a long time. 

It takes a few seconds of silence for Peter to realize what’s happened. “Mr. Wilson, did I make you  _ blush _ ?” he giggles.

But Wade takes back the upper hand when he shoots back, “You know, baby boy, that’s the second time you’ve called me mister. You going to call me sir, next?”

Peter isn’t too naive to misunderstand. He knows this is one of those… kinks. He didn’t really get it but, if Wade liked it, Peter saw no harm in trying.

“Well, that is what you call old people,” he laughs in delight at Wade’s spluttering. “I’m so sorry sir, I didn’t mean to offend you.”

His voice drops without him meaning to and the sentence comes out a lot huskier than he expected. Wade sucks in a breath and they both fall silent. The silence isn’t uncomfortable, and if he’s guessing right, Wade needs a moment to calm down.

“Peter. You are definitely playing with fire, there, baby.”

“Good thing I like the heat, right?” Peter laughs. “But anyway. Tomorrow night at 10 work okay?”

“Absoposilutely! Tomorrow night, Petey. Don’t let the radioactive spiders bite!” 

There was a click, Wade hanging up. Peter leans over to turn off his screen and rolled over to plug it in. Curling himself around his pillow, he closed his eyes and smiled. It all felt almost too good to be true.


	7. I Don’t Need a Dick to Fuck You Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to monsterleen for beta-reading! 
> 
> This specific chapter has some warnings, lovelies. There is a lot of transphobic and homophobic slurs thrown around. None of it comes out of Peter or Wade's mouths, though. Please keep yourselves safe.

When Peter gets to the graffitied building for their patrolling date the next night, Wade is already waiting for him. It’s a little bit startling to see that he had decided to dress up after all. As in, he wore a dress over his suit. It’s a matching red that’s tight at the top but flowing into a billowy skirt from the top of his hips down to his thighs. 

“Hey, Petey!” Wade exclaims, swirling his skirt back and forth. “What do you think? I wanted to look pretty for you.”

Peter pulls off his mask as he steps closer to Wade, unable to find words as he looks the other man up and down. He has never seen another man in a dress, but he’s finding it  _ much  _ hotter than expected. 

His silence is the wrong response, because as he continues to openly stare, Wade starts to slump. 

“Do you not like it?” His voice is small.

Peter jumps forward, hands reaching out but not quite touching Wade, “No, no! I love it! It just surprised me a little. You look amazing!”

The other man straightens back up and strikes a pose, grin showing through his mask. 

“So did you want to patrol first or food first?” Peter asks.

Wade shakes himself out. “Food first! I was thinking tacos.”

“Come on, Wade, no. You always want tacos. How about something different for our first date? Pizza? Just this once.”

Wade stares at him for a moment, mask unusually expressionless. Seriously, one of these days Peter will get the secret of his mask out of him. 

He suddenly jabs a finger at Peter, his grin becoming visible again, “Okay, but I demand either taco pizza or pineapple and olive pizza!”

“Pineapple and olive? Uh, that definitely sounds a little gross.”

“No, you sound gross!” 

Peter chuckles at the rapid fire reply, “So you’re five now?” 

“Petey, please!” Wade whines, “Sweet and salty, it’s almost as perfect as tacos!”

“How about two pizzas? One for you and one for me. And I promise to at least try yours.”

“Yes! Deal! And I’m paying!”

“What? No, I’m paying. I asked you on this date!”

Wade whines. “But I’m rolling in dough! I wanna treat you like the amazing, sweet sugar baby that you are!”

Peter hesitates when he hears the nickname. He doesn’t want Wade to think that he always has to buy everything for him. He isn’t a user like that. But… Maybe just this once? “Okay. Just this once, though. You aren’t always going to be paying for both of us.”

“Uh huh, just you wait. I’ll be your sugar daddy soon enough.”

Peter wrinkles his nose, “No, Wade! That’s… gross.”

“You’re dating  _ this  _ face,” Wade laughs. He leans in close, whispering conspiratorially, “You better be ready to get nasty all the time.”

He feels betrayed by his own body when a shiver of arousal rushes over him. Wade’s words are so silly that reacting like this makes Peter feel ridiculous, but it’s the very playful nature of Wade that turns Peter into a blushing mess.

Peter looks up through his lashes to see Wade smiling widely at him. It looks so genuine and beautiful that Peter can’t help but kiss Wade’s jawline, the only part of his face he can reach while standing.

Wade leans back and cups Peter’s jaw, putting some distance between them, “Not that I wouldn’t love to continue this, baby boy, but if you want to get food at any point tonight, we better stop.”

Peter sighs moodily. The truth hurts sometimes. But Wade’s laugh makes him feel a bit better.

They look over the Domino’s app for quite a while. Wade insists on getting every possible thing that looks remotely appetizing and a few things because they don’t. By the time they finish ordering Peter is wincing, both at the total, and for the poor, unsuspecting night shift employees.

Wade graciously goes to pick it up, despite Peter’s protests that it would take him five minutes to web to the Domino’s literally a few buildings away and back. When Wade returns, it’s several minutes later with arms weighed down with bags. Peter wonders if this was his plan all along, as Wade spends a few minutes parading around the rooftop and striking poses to show off his muscles, which Peter does not get aroused from again, dammit.

As Peter is digging into his tenth slice, he realizes that this date isn’t all that different from their usual after patrol hang outs. Rather than feeling disappointed, it fills his chest with a strange sense of warmth. They both have an eager grin every time they meet each other’s eyes.

“So, since you’re comfortable enough to keep your mask up for eating, maybe you’d be comfortable letting me kiss you?” 

Wade stops mid-bite, meeting Peter’s eyes, “Wha-” 

“Once you finish chewing, I would really like to kiss you.”

“Baby boy- it’s just not the same!” Wade is obviously hesitant.

“Seriously, Wade? You pull your mask up for food, but you won’t let me kiss you?” 

“I just don’t know if-”

“What, know if what?” Peter presses as Wade’s hesitation starts to drag on. 

“What if you can’t stand how my skin feels against you?”

“I don’t think that’s going to be a problem, Wade.” 

Wade’s head turns to the side as he starts to mumble. He’s being quiet enough that Peter can’t hear anything of what Wade might be thinking. He reaches for another slice of pizza while he waits. He knows arguments with the boxes can sometimes take a while. 

Which is why he’s so surprised that he’s only 3 bites in on his next slice when Wade turns back to him and simply answers, “Okay.” 

“Okay?”

“Yeah, just let me finish this, then I’ll get that taste of heaven on your lips!” Peter chokes at the words, quickly setting his pizza down and grabbing a napkin. 

Peter unconsciously rocks his hips forward a bit on the edge of the roof they’re sitting cross-legged on. He turns towards Wade and waits. 

Wade finishes his food and wipes his mouth with his glove. He turns his upper body, stopping when he meets Peter’s eyes. 

“You really want to do this, baby boy?” 

“Jesus, Wade. Just kiss me, please?” 

Wade doesn’t need to be told again. He leans forward almost too quickly, barely stopping his face from colliding with Peter’s. Peter slips his left hand onto Wade’s neck, holding him gently in place. 

“Okay, um,” Peter closes his eyes and leans his face toward Wade’s. He hesitantly presses into the bigger man, releasing a breath out of his nose. Both their lips are chapped and everything tastes like pizza sauce. 

Peter pulls back a few seconds later, insecurity making him doubt. 

Wade follows him, gently pressing in against Peter’s mouth. He holds still for a second, then opens his mouth lightly against Peter’s, moving them gently together. 

Peter pulls back after a moment, running his hand up Wade’s shoulder and smiling, “Thank you.”

Wade’s laugh is a little choked, “You’re welcome, baby.”

“Just so you know, your skin doesn’t feel bad against mine.”

“What does it feel like, Petey?” Wade turns to sit thigh to thigh against Peter, leaning lightly against him.

“It’s soft, a little bumpy, too,” Peter gently bumps his shoulder against Wade’s, smiling at him. “But it feels nice. You’re super warm.” 

“Cell regeneration does that, Petey pie. I am like a furnace basically all the time.” 

“You ready to go? I’ll give you a spideyback ride.” 

Wade gasps, pulling down his mask, “You’re  _ offering _ to give little ol’ me a spideyback ride? Shit, Peter, I should kiss you more often!” 

Peter scoffs, standing, “Of course you should, but not for that reason.” He turns away, waving Wade towards his back, “Come on, dork. It’s getting late and I actually want to get in some patrol tonight.” 

It’s always been so easy to talk to Wade, and Peter had definitely gotten distracted. 

Wade stands up and throws the box of pizza off the roof. “There’s a dumpster down there, don’t worry, sugar baby, I’m not a litterer.” He clings to Peter’s back, ready to swing. “Let’s go!” 

Within 15 minutes, they run into someone trying to break into a business. The man is obviously attempting to keep himself low to the ground and trying to be stealthy. Unfortunately, the bright orange balaclava makes him nearly impossible to miss as he tries to jimmy the lock.

Peter lands on the light pole nearby as Deadpool drops down from the building, landing right next to the man. 

“Ouch,” Wade complains, coming up out of a crouch. “Superhero landing not recommended.”

“Hey, man. Bright orange hunting gear is  _ extremely _ visible. Maybe try black or grey next time?” A smirk can be heard in Peter’s voice.

The man spins around, back pressed against the door he was trying to unlock. His head swivels between the two, “Hey, guys! Oh, man, I really wasn’t doing- uh-”

His voice slows to a stop, his eyes glued to Wade’s outfit. He bursts out laughing. “Holy shit, man! What the fuck are you wearing? Since when are fairies allowed to be superheros?”

Peter straightens from his iconic crouch at the man’s words, “Excuse me? What did you just say?”

“You heard me! What even is this fucking city coming to, gay faggots and fairies thinking they can just strut around however they want,” the man scoffs. 

Wade strikes a dramatic pose, hand against his chest. “Wow! All this vitriol for little old me? You shouldn’t have!”

He yanks one of his katanas out of its scabbard with a flourish, “This seems like you need some lessons in manners!” 

“Deadpool!” Peter calls out. 

Wade visibly pouts, “Aaaww, I wasn’t planning on killing him, Spidey, not just for a little bit of rudeness. Maybe just cut on him a little?”

Peter flings a web at the man just as he turns to run, webbing him against the door frame of the business. “How about we just report this crime to the police, huh?”

“Goddamn shitty faggots, get this shit off me!” The man struggles against the webs. “What the fuck is this?”

Peter shoots a web at the man’s face, “Really? Deadpool is still holding a sword. Don’t you think the better part of valor would be to stop with the name calling?”

“If you don’t like the web jizz on your hand, I’m willing to cut it off, bee tee dubs!” Wade cheers. “Your hand, you know, not the webbing.”

The man struggles frantically, trying to rip the webbing away from his face enough to breathe. Peter throws his head back with a sigh and jumps off the pole, strolling towards the man, “I guess I did tell Deadpool he couldn’t kill you. I should probably follow my own rules, huh?”

At that, Peter rips off the webbing just over his nose. “All better!” he chirps, patting the man’s face condescendingly. “At least you can breathe now, right?”

The man takes several heavy breaths, letting his head fall back against the door frame for a moment as he catches his breath. Lifting his head, he shoots a vicious glare toward Peter. 

“Aw, don’t look at him like that!” Wade comes up to stand near them. “I could have cut off your hand, instead. Spidey usually lets maiming slide if it’s for a good cause!”

Chuckling at the way the man flinches away, Wade reaches into the man’s jacket pocket and pulls out a phone. He tsks, handing the phone over to Peter. “Dude! Every time. You would think criminals would be smart enough to leave the phone at home.”

Peter snorts a laugh before calling the police to come pick the asshole up. Once done, he tosses the phone at the man’s feet, reaching out for Wade, “Let’s go.”

Wade gives a quick swish of his skirt in excitement, leaping over and pressing his side against Peter’s and wrapping his arms around him, “Yes! Take me to your lair!”

Once on the roof Peter laughs when he lets Wade go, “My lair? Really, Wade?”

“Ah, come on! I would love it if you took me to your spider web to have your way with me,” Wade tilts his head, somehow making the eyes in his mask flutter like he’s fluttering his lashes at Peter. 

Peter laughs again, shaking his head this time, “Jeeze, for real. How do you make your mask do that?”

“Trade secret, baby boy!” He straightens up with a deep breath, clapping his hands once. “So that was bracing. You ready to keep going?”

Peter hesitates before reaching out to touch Wade’s arm. “Are you really okay with what he said? You know I definitely don’t think like that, right?”

Wade waves his hand, brushing the words off, “Of course not, Spidey. You would have said something earlier if it bothered you. And besides,” he sidles closer, leaning towards Peter coquettishly, “I definitely already knew you liked dicks.”

“Alright, alright,” Peter steps back and chuckles in embarrassment. “Let’s keep going.”

They head off over the roofs again, moving slowly so Peter can listen for any disturbances. 

It’s at their fourth stop that another petty criminal looks Wade up and down and decides it’s worth life and limb to make a comment.

“Didn’t know the friendly neighborhood Spiderman hung out with freaks like this,” the sweaty purse thief sneered.

“What? Murderous, blood thirsty, schizophrenic psychos? Come on, people, get with the times! It’s been months!” Wade snarks back.

Peter slides down a wall of the dead end alley. Making the easy assumption, given their words, that the thief is also a bigot, he webs him to the opposite side. 

“Are you seriously berating me for being around a guy wearing a dress  _ while  _ being caught red handed? What kind of priorities are you setting?”

“You’re a superhero, though. What will the kids think if they see you hanging around a filthy crossdresser?”

Peter’s irritation boils over into anger. How dare this stupid hypocrite tell him that he’s a bad influence! Before he can blow up at the man, Wade slaps his thigh and practically howls with laughter.

“A filthy crossdresser,” he wheezes, “Oh, that’s a good one!”

Peter is grinding his teeth to keep from matching each slur with a curse of his own, “People can dress however they want. You don’t have a say in this, especially considering your position.”

“But you’re a fuckin’ dude! Not some tranny!” the man hisses out.

“No, my friend,” Wade leans against the wall casually, “But I am fucking a dude.”

Peter laughs and chokes at the same time, making a sound like a retching cat. He ignores Wade’s offered  _ gesundheit  _ and clears his throat.

“Wade, call the police for me, please.” Peter doesn’t want to spend another minute looking at this idiot.

The sweaty man jerks in his web, his face going red and veiny as he seems to be holding his breath. In the next moment, he can’t seem to hold his words in anymore and he sneers, “So you’re the faggot he’s fucking, huh? I should have fucking known. What  _ man  _ wants to walk around in clothes like that? You trying to be a girl, too?”

He wants to hurt this man. His grip threatens to bend the pole beneath him, so he relaxes his hands. Taking a deep breath and hoping for calm, he swings himself down next to Wade. 

Peter had been stupid, referring to him by name during a patrol, rising to the man’s jabs. But it hit an open wound he thought was healed. The name calling and bullies feel like they should only be small fragments of his life compared to the huge accomplishments of Spiderman. Being with Wade, for a little while he had managed to forget that the end of high school was only days ago, and just days ago he was still being shoved around by people bigger than him.

When he looks over to Wade there’s no anger, only concern for Peter’s wellbeing, which fills Peter with relief. The last thing he could handle right now was another alley freakout. The man is still spewing obscenities, but he can’t bring himself to care anymore.

“Police are on their way, baby boy. You ready to leave?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” Peter wraps his arm around Wade’s hip and tugs him closer. And even though it’s Wade’s weight he’s carrying he feels supported by the heavy arms that wrap around him. 


	8. All Men Are Dicks, All Men But Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to monsterleen for beta!

It was odd to be held in a princess carry as Peter swung them away from the alley. Odd and definitely a little on the scary side. Wade can’t help but scream every time Peter lets go of a web to shoot out another. One handed swinging is definitely a  _ lot  _ more jerky of a ride. 

_ {Aaaaaahhhhhh!!! We’re gonna die!! Aaaaaahhhh!!} _

**{Why are you even freaking out about this? Even if we do die, we always come back!}**

_ {Aaaaaaahhhh!! I can’t help it!} _

Wade definitely agrees more with Yellow on this one. He’ll have to make sure Peter knows that Spideyback rides are much less scary than princess carry rides!

_ {Aaaaaaaaahhhh!!!} _

**{Can you please stop screaming? I’m sure we will be there soon!}**

_ {Where are we going?! No! Too scary! Aaaaaaahhhhh!!}  _

After what felt like forever, accompanied by way too much screaming from Yellow, Peter finally landed them on top of a two story bodega. Wade let himself collapse to the ground dramatically as soon as Peter let him go. 

_ {Oh, sweet solid ground under our feet… Wade! Kiss it!}  _

Wade gives a loud smacking kiss to the rooftop, accompanied by the sound of White’s complaining.

**{This is a rooftop! We are not on the ground!}**

“Wade? Are you okay?” Peter leans down to look at where Wade is spread eagle, attempting to cuddle with the rooftop. 

“Land! Oh, land! Nooooo… Spideyback is so much better than princess carry, Petey! Let’s not do that again, please,” Wade moaned.

“Oh! I didn’t even think about that. I’m sorry!”

Wade heaves a sigh, rolling over to sit upright and look up at Peter. “So! Now that my stomach is back in its proper place! Where are we?”

“Are you hungry? I just… Figured we could eat something?” Peter seems hesitant. 

Wade jumps up, “Food! Yes, I can always eat.”

“These guys are 24/7,” Peter reaches out to grab Wade’s hand and pull him to his feet. He turns and heads for the fire escape. “They’ve got some awesome churros.”

_ {Yes! Food! I thought we were going to die of starvation!}  _

**{Sigh… We just ate like two whole pizzas no more than a couple of hours ago!}**

_ {That was so last chapter!} _

They drop down from the roof, Wade less gracefully than Peter, and make their way into the brightly lit store. The cashier, a young man several inches taller than Peter, is flipping through a magazine when they enter, but immediately looks up at the chime.

“Hey, Spiderman! I haven’t seen you in a while. Mr. Delmar’s been asking after you.” The cashier slips his hand under the plexiglass divider to shake Peter’s hand.

“I’m alright, tell Delmar I said so. Uh, buddy, this is my patrol partner, Deadpool.”

The cashier nods and smiles at Wade, but noticeably retracts his hand. He can feel his eyes travel up and down, taking him in, from his weapons to his dress.

_ {Oh, okay, fuck this guy.} _

**{We’re walking into his store with several guns. He’s a smart kid to be nervous.}**

If it was his weapons that were the problem then he would have to agree with Yellow, because nobody separates him from his babies. But the pair of eyes pass his holsters and stay on the dress. Wade isn’t ashamed. He’s always loved how pretty dresses make him feel and that feeling is even more important to him since Weapon X got rid of the only thing he liked about himself.

_ “Okay.  _ Can we get some churros, please? Two for both of us,” Peter steps in front of Wade, blocking him from view as much as he can.

Wade decides it might just be better to stay quiet, considering his habit to make men who hurt him disappear. He can tell his silence has unnerved both Peter and the cashier, but he squeezes Peter’s hand, out of sight, and subtly nods.

_ {Why isn’t the big guy talking? Am I missing something?} _

**{Yes. Yes, you are.}**

The cashier startles and his eyes flick over to the food counter on the back wall like a nervous tick.

“Yeah… yeah, gimme a second,” he says, even as he walks slowly out of his glass enclosed register and across to the separate area.

Wade and Peter both walk over so they aren’t standing awkwardly in the middle of the store, but the movement causes the cashier to twitch. He looks away from the hot oil to smile tightly at the pair of them.

Even as he scoops the first two churros out he stands sideways to see the fryer and Wade at the same time.

“I’m sorry to bother you, but we’ve got to go soon,” Peter’s voice isn’t cold or mean, but lacks the friendliness he showed earlier.

The cashier perks up, “Oh! Of course, sorry about that,” he moves suddenly, dropping the new churros in while wrapping up the others.

In under a minute Peter and Wade are out the door with freshly made churros. The second they’re outside Wade breathes deeply, as if surfacing from underwater.

“So…That guy was really rude,” Peter offers. 

Wade isn’t paying attention, grappling with how much he wants to turn back around and introduce that shit stain to his katanas, Bea and Arthur. 

_ {That was weird. What just happened?} _

**{I’m not… I think he didn’t want to cause a scene?}**

_ {Wow. But we love causing scenes!}  _

“Not when we’re with Spidey!” Wade hissed. Suddenly, something brushed against him.

Wade startled hard, grabbing the wrist attached to the hand that had just touched his shoulder. 

Peter’s other hand comes up, showing all he’s holding is a churro, “Are you okay?”

Wade released a harsh breath, letting go of Peter’s wrist, “Yeah, sorry. You startled me.”

He gestured toward the fire escape, “You wanna go back up?”

Peter nodded. 

Walking up the fire escape gives Wade the chance to relax a little. That ass is definitely one of his favorite views.  

_ {Yeah, look at dat ass! We could stare at that all day!}  _

**{Not exactly what I would call relaxing, but it certainly inspires better thoughts than that bag of dicks in the shop. Especially if we really aren’t going to cause a scene in front of Spiderman.}**

“Not that kind of scene, not today. It’s our first date-date! We need to make a good impression,” Wade mumbles at the boxes. 

Once back on the roof, Wade and Peter move to sit on the ledge together, both of them with their feet kicked over the edge and a churro in hand. The bag with their second churros is sitting between them. Peter chomps off the end of his churro and hums in contentment. 

Wade pulls his mask partly up, biting into the snack before saying around his mouthful, “Sorry, Pete. I didn’t mean to freak you out, but that little turd in there didn’t seem to like me very much. I figured you wouldn’t want me to flip out at him. You two seemed kinda chummy?”

Peter huffs out a sharp sigh, scowl visible where he had also pulled his mask up to his nose, “Well, I had kind of thought so, but honestly, not so much now. I freaking hate assholes like that. He’s no better than a passive aggressive bully!”

_ {Gasp! He said a bad word!}  _

Wade gasps dramatically, throwing his hand over his mouth, “Spidey! You said a bad word! I thought you didn’t even know words like that!”

“Oh, come on,” Peter scoffs, a reluctant smile turning up the corners of his mouth. “I’m not a child, of course I know how to swear.”

The smile slips away as he turns his head away, facing out towards the street. His voice is soft when he continues, “I just don’t usually think those kind of words are worth it.”

“So what’s different about this time?”

Peter’s mouth pinches for a moment before he bursts out, “I just hate bullies so much!” 

“I do too, baby boy-”

“It doesn’t matter that he didn’t say anything, his eyes said enough. And those criminals earlier? I don’t understand how people can still think like that! It’s 2019, for fuck’s sake!”

“Spidey, what…?” Wade tentatively reaches out, laying his hand on Peter’s shoulder. 

Peter tilts his chin down in thought. Sighing, he reaches up and takes Wade’s hand in his own, bringing it down to his leg and twining their fingers together. “Back when I was in high school, I was bullied really badly.”

_ {No way! Spidey is perfection! How could anyone not see it?}  _

**{At least that’s confirmation he isn’t in high school.}**

Wade’s head twitches as he tries to ignore the boxes, focusing on Peter’s words. 

“I don’t know what that’s like. Or at least, I don’t think I do,” Wade affectionately rubs his thumb into Peter’s hand, “You must have really given them a beat down, huh?”

Peter bites his bottom lip and seems to close up, “I wouldn’t put it like that… I just dealt with it, I guess.”

“Hm…” Wade decides it’s worth pushing a little more, “Peter, I want to know more about you. It’s hard to imagine you ever getting bullied.”

Peter takes a bite out of his second churro and chews slowly. Wade takes that moment to eat both of his churros in three quick bites, his cheeks bulging as he chews. He swallows quickly when Peter starts to speak again.

“I’m small and kind of effeminate, one of my best friends is female, I’m into science, I didn’t really play sports; I was called things like that all the time and I just-” Peter’s hand squeezes down on Wade’s and he finally lifts his head back up, “I just can’t stand it. I’m sorry you had to deal with it tonight.”

“It is what it is, baby boy,” Wade shrugs. “Everyone always has something to say about me. Either I’m the Merc with a Mouth and they’ve heard of my reputation or I’m out as a civilian and I get nasty comments and looks because of how I look. Or I wear a dress and get comments about that. It’s all the same, really.”

“It’s not fair,” Peter sighs, leaning his shoulder against Wade’s. 

“Life never is.” Wade turns his head and places a soft kiss against Peter’s cheek. “What do you say we be done with this patrolling thing for the evening?”

Peter shoots up to his feet and shakes himself, “It’s only a little past midnight. You can turn in, but I need to clear my head.”

_ {Must be nice.} _

**{He’s just going to get worked up again! Tell this stupid kid it’s his bedtime.}**

Wade nods in partial agreement to White, and Peter takes it as approval. Until Wade stands up and grips him by the forearms.

“You can clear your head on the way home, baby boy. Come on, Spideyback to our meeting place?”

“You know,” Peter huffs as Wade hops onto his back, “I’m starting to think you’re just using me for rides around town.”

He waits until Peter is about to jump off the ledge to whisper into his ear, “I’d love to ride you around town, baby.”

“F-!” Peter slips rather than jumps.

Wade is laughing for only a split second before the ground drops out from under him. He tries to enjoy the ride, but Spidey takes his revenge.

He swoops as high as he can on the upswings before letting go, letting them free fall until the last minute when he shoots out a new web. Wade can’t help but scream every time, Yellow accompanying him the whole time, once again freaking out about the possibility of them falling to their death. 

Peter finally lands them on the sidewalk at the corner of 9th and Margaret St. Wade jumps down and falters as Peter turns to look at him. 

He hesitantly reaches out, wrapping his hand around Peter’s, “You don’t have to tell me where you live, but do you mind if I walk you partway home? I just- ,” he fiddles with Peter’s fingers. “I don’t really want this night to end just yet, you know?”

“Yeah, I would like that,” Wade can hear Peter’s smile in his voice when he turns and gives a tug on Wade’s hand, leading him up the street. 

_ {He’s holding our hand!} _

**{Wow. He must like us more than I thought.}**

Wade smiles sappily down at their joined hands, walking with Peter in a rosy haze as he swings their arms gently between them. 

“Wade?”

“Hmmm?” He hums, still focused on their hands. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this quiet,” Peter laughs lightly, head turned toward Wade. 

“I’m just… really happy. Honestly, I’m not used to people standing up for me the way you did tonight. It means a lot.”

Peter’s hand tightens on Wade’s, “You matter, Wade. You matter to me and no one should treat you like that. It certainly doesn’t matter what you wear!”

“I like dresses,” Wade states. “It really doesn’t bother you? Because I’m probably going to want to wear them sometimes.”

_ {We love looking pretty!} _

“Of course not! Wade, that dress looks amazing on you.” 

“You really like it?” Wade does a little twirl while walking and almost pulls Peter to the ground, “Shit! Sorry, spider monkey.” 

“It’s okay, Wade, and yeah, I really like it.” Peter laughs. He pulls Wade to the left, towards Queens, “Come on, this way.” 

“You live in Queens? But you’re so nice and soft, nothing like the assholes over there!” 

_ {Hnnng, like his butt? Grab it! Check and see if it’s as nice and soft as it looks!}  _

**{Leave him alone, he’s had a hard night.}**

**{** _ Not as hard as we’re gonna be when we see that sweet ass of his swinging away.}  _

“Born and raised, and what do you mean we’re all jerks? I know a bunch of people that are so sweet they’ll melt your teeth!” Peter snickers. 

As they walk farther they continue to chat like any other end of patrol meetup. Every turn onto a new street makes his stomach squeeze with excitement. He keeps expecting to be told off for a joke gone too far, and then he would ruin the night. But Peter laughs at every joke and quips back with an open smile. It’s odd to be walking around in their suits, but it feels like a proper date.

Peter swivels to face Wade, slowly walking backwards until he comes to a stop. “I had a good night, Wade. We should do this again.” 

“Oh, smooth, that’s supposed to be my line.” 

**{Pathetic, you’re going to let him do all the leg work here?}**

_ {Yeah, he’s like 5’5”! You expect a short stack like him to carry the weight of all three of us?}  _

**{He’s so tiny. We could wrap him up and take him home as a pet.}**

_ {Are you sure that’s a good idea? I remember what happened to the last pet we had.} _

**{That was your fault.}**

_ {You could have reminded us to feed it!} _

Wade rolls his neck, attempting to discreetly shake away the boxes, then slowly pulls up his mask to his nose. “I had a good time too, Petey. We will definitely be doing this again.” 

Peter smiles and steps up to Wade, “Are you letting me kiss you?” He asks quietly, fingers pulling his mask up to his nose as well.

“No, I’m going to kiss you. The boxes are telling me to man up and not let you do all the leg work here. Cut me some slack, baby boy.” Wade’s voice is low and rough, like gravel.

“Mmhm, well tell the boxes that I want them to be nice for once.”

_ {Over my dead body, we know Wade doesn’t deserve it.} _

**{We don’t have a body, we share Wade’s. And he asked so nicely!}**

He pulls his hand from Peter’s and places it on the smaller man’s waist, tugging gently, “Come here, you little minx.” Peter rests his hands on Wade’s chest, leaning forward. Only he’s a little too far away for that to be comfortable, gasping as he trips and falls against his hands.

“I see you’re falling for me.” Wade chuckles, then closes the gap between their lips. Peter breathes a sigh. Their mouths slot together, moving slowly. Wade hums in the back of his throat, pleased that Peter’s pressed into his chest.

“You taste like honey.” Wade mumbles, pulling away.

“Wade,” The bottom half of Peter’s face flushing a bright red.

He smiles at Peter one more time, taking a step back. “Have a good night, Peter.”

Peter smiles back, shy and sweet, “I’ll text you.”

Wade watches him as he flings himself up and away, until he’s out of sight.

“Uunf,” Wade moans quietly.

_ {Dat ass…} _

**{We’re going to need the unicorn again tonight, for sure.}**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pst!! Wade POV smut next chapter! I know you guys are all excited about this!


	9. The Unicorn Dick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A tad bit late on posting this time, sorry guys! But here it is and with smut! I'll be posting a link to a picture of the rainbow unicorn horn dildo in the end notes. 
> 
> Thanks as always to monsterleen for betareading!

“Tuning in now to the loneliest man in Manhattan!” Wade affected a talk show accent as he twirls around in his squeaky swivel chair.

**{We aren’t anywhere close to Manhattan.}**

_ {Joined now by our hilarious guest, Mister Yellow W. Winston, we discuss what the big guy is really thinking about!} _

**{This is… the saddest thing we’ve ever done. And we have killed ourselves, multiple times.}**

Wade can’t help but agree. He knows that Peter told him that texting was fine, but every time he tries to type a simple hello it turns into a pathetically long winded serenade. He slams his foot down to stop the spinning and flings a knife from a thigh pocket into his old Francis target. Ah, good times.

_ {So, are we going to talk about the elephant in the room, White?} _

Wade can preemptively feel the headache coming on. He decides now is a good time to make himself some dinner. Second dinner, of course.

**{Third.}**

He pulls out knives, bowls, and cutting boards, then all the ingredients. The magic of technology was that Wade didn’t have to subject anyone to his horror show of a face in order to get food, he just ordered it all online. Technology is also how he got into this situation in the first place. He knew it was stupid to hope that Peter would never push for more, but he had such a good time tonight, it only solidified all the mushy feelings inside of him.

_ {Damn, when did we all get so soft? You’re being selfless and White actually likes someone! I think the world is ending!} _

**{Don’t be dramatic. That twunk is just gonna cause more trouble for us if we don’t keep an eye on him.}**

_ {Oh, get off your high horse. You like Petey! I like Spidey! And this regurgitated stud muffin likes his baby boy! I say we bag ‘em and tag ‘em before he actually sees our face.} _

“No!” Wade stabs a kitchen knife down into the cutting board he’s using to chop up his veggies, “We aren’t going to trick him. I know, I  _ know  _ it sucks, but we just got to take every moment as a gift before he makes us take the mask off. Or the gloves, or suit. Do you think we could finger him with everything but the gloves?”

**{Oh good, you were starting to sound like a self-help book there for a second. It was terrifying.}**

_ {Fuck yes, we should! Oh, to the fingering. Not the give up Spidey thing.} _

“It’s not our choice to make,” Wade stubbornly insists, then he slumps forward, “I wish it was. This would be a lot easier if I knew what he was thinking.”

**{Why don’t you- oh this is a crazy idea! Actually fucking text him!}**

“But, but- Whitey, words are  _ hard!” _

_ {And our life is an endless cycle of self-hatred and loathing!} _

Wade viciously tosses the onions into the pot in agreement. It’s impossible to be any sort of hopeful when every romantic relationship he’s ever had before this ended in vomit or death.

_ {Sometimes both! That one was fun!} _

**{We are not going to let him die. As for the whole unmasking business, I’m beginning to think Peter just has a leather kink.}**

_ {Nah, I already checked the tags. That would’ve been perfect, though!} _

Wade shakes out half a bag of tortilla chips onto his plate, he glances at his phone, laying silent on the counter. He almost burns his chile sauce when he starts scrolling through his old messages with Peter.

_ {Oh no, our food! Pay attention, you almost burned it!} _

**{Is food actually more important than Peter to you?}**

_ {I don’t want to die of starvation! That shit sucks for all of us!} _

“I’m pretty sure we would be okay, even if I burned it,” Wade scoffs. “This is our third dinner tonight.”

_ {What? What were dinners one and two?}  _

**_{Really?}_ **

_ {What?} _

Wade tries to ignore the boxes as they continue to bicker about Yellow’s astoundingly bad memory, dumping the chile sauce onto his chips and topping it all with some tomatoes and sour cream. 

Grabbing up his plate, he takes himself back to the living room and throws himself down on the couch. A few chips covered in chile slip off the plate and land on the couch, sauce down. Snapping them back up, he tosses them into his mouth, ignoring the dried blood flakes now peppering the sauce. He grabs the remote to find something to watch, hoping to take his mind off of his phone and  _ especially _ off Peter. 

_ {Oh, Golden Girls! Watch that, watch that!} _

**{Or we could watch our eyelids? It’s late.}**

_ {Our eyelids are so boring though! GOL-DEN GIRLS, GOL-DEN GIRLS, GOL-DEN GIRLS!} _

Wade huffs, annoyed at Yellow’s incessant screaming chant, “Fuck, fine! Bea Arthur can’t hide from us forever, anyway.” 

But even Golden Girls isn’t enough to completely distract him as he valiantly tries to remember what he told Yellow and White not fifteen minutes ago.

_ {C’mon man! You’ve been staring at your phone for half the show.} _

“I’m not gonna text him, Yellow!” He tosses his empty plate on the coffee table, planting his phone face down next to it. Leaning back with a peeved huff, he tries to focus on Bea Arthur.

But the boxes just  _ won’t stop.  _

_ {Do it.} _

**{You want to. And he likes us, weirdly enough. You should do it.}**

Wade grabs his phone off the table and stuffs it in a random pouch. He throws himself onto the couch after, heaving a sigh. “Guys! Stop it! I already said no! It was a rough night for him, we should just give him the chance to process or some shit. Isn’t that a thing people do?”

_ {No? I mean, we definitely never do that kind of thing.}  _

**{I don’t think that’s quite true, actually. I’m pretty sure that’s what most author’s use us for.}**

_ {That’s just… Wow, I’m feeling so used right now.}  _

Wade flops over sideways, burying his face in the couch. Maybe he can suffocate himself in the couch to get the boxes to shut up. He mumbles, “You are, you’re a cheap Russian whore, Yellow.” 

**{Don’t bother, suffocating never works.}**

_ {Yeah! Remember, you tried that just last week! You didn’t even manage to die, just get a little oxygen deprivation high. Oooohh, those hallucinations were kinda fun, maybe you  _ **_should_ ** _ try it again!} _

The ping signalling an incoming text has him flailing at his pouches for his phone. Unfortunately, face down and smushed into the couch cushions does not make for graceful motion. His fumbling attempt to roll over and grab his phone at the same time has him rolling off the couch. His head bounces painfully on a gun that was laying on the floor. 

But he ignores that in favor of opening his home screen to see the text he had gotten.

_ {It’s Petey! Yes! Open it open it open it, what does it say!}  _

**{I know you know how to read.}**

_ {But what about the poor readers! They can’t see the cell phone message through their various devices. Read it out loud so everyone knows what he said to us!}  _

 

**_2:24 am_ ** **Peter**

_ Hey Wade. Are you doing anything right now? _

**_2:24 am_ ** **Wade**

_ Just thinkin bout u bby.  _

_ Y, did u need nething bby boy? _

 

_ {Too truthful.} _

**{Too sleazy.}**

“Shut up!” Wade snarls at them, frustrated. 

 

**_2:25 am_ ** **Peter**

_ Yes, I think so? Well, maybe. It depends on you. _

 

Wade’s heart kicks up into a heavy rhythm. He had really thought the date had gone well, but maybe he had just been fooling himself.

**{Stop freaking out for five seconds! If you want to know what’s wrong, then ask, you dumb dolt.}**

_ {Maybe he got attacked! I knew we should’ve stalked him all the way home!} _

He shakes his head, “He wouldn’t beat around the bush if he was in trouble. This has something to do with me.”

At the same time, White wasn’t wrong. He trusts Peter to tell him the truth, all he has to do is ask. Hoping to convey how seriously he feels about this, he types the message as clearly as possible. 

 

**_2:26 am_ ** **Wade**

_ Is something wrong? _

**_2:27 am_ ** **Peter**

_ No! No absolutely nothing wrong.  _

_ I was thinking about you too, you know. The second I got back home. _

 

All three of them breathe a sigh of relief.

 

**_2:28 am_ ** **Peter**

_ I was wondering if we could talk again? _

**_2:30 am_ ** **Wade**

_ Im the 1 worried bout bothering u _

_ Ne time u wanna talk 2 me, hit me up _

 

_ {Dense motherfucker! He wants to talk like last night! This is our chance.} _

The text they receive in the next second shuts Yellow up very effectively. It’s a picture, this time. 

**{This is really more surprising than it should be, considering the first phone message we ever received from him.}**

_ {Sweet holy naked angel before us…}  _

The picture Peter had sent has him standing in front of a mirror, completely naked. He’s hard and he has a hand cupped around himself. 

Another message pops up and Wade scrambles to open it.

 

**_2:32 am_ ** **Peter**

_ I was thinking of you. Wondered if you were thinking of me _

**_2:32 am_ ** **Wade**

_ O bby all nite i been thinking of u _

_ U so hot _

_ Dont hide tht pretty dick from me lemme see _

 

Wade waits with bated breath, gently palming himself through his suit, already hard. It’s less than a minute when another message comes through. It’s another picture. This time Peter’s laying down and the picture is focused in on his dick. His hand is wrapped around the base and cupping down his balls and Wade can see a little droplet of precum on Peter’s cockhead. 

_ {Holy dicksicles, I wanna lick it!} _

**{With a body like that, how can he…}**

“Oh baby, show me what you got,” he whispers. He scrambles to pull his gloves off and starts stripping out of his suit as fast as he can, almost falling on his face in his rush. When he finally collapses back on his couch and grabs his phone, there are two messages waiting for him.

 

**_2:34 am_ ** **Peter**

_ Is that better? _

**_2:35 am_ ** **Peter**

_ Wade? _

**_2:35 am_ ** **Wade**

_ Sorry sorry dick almost  _ 💥

_ Had 2 gt the suit off _

**_2:36 am_ ** **Peter**

_ You really like it? _

**_2:36 am_ ** **Wade**

_ Bby u gotta kno u hotter then da  _ ☀️

 

The next thing Wade gets isn’t a message, it’s a call. He gapes at his phone before swiping to accept. “Hey, baby boy. You still thinking of me?”

“Yes, Wade. God, yes!” Peter voice is so strained, Wade wonders how long he’d been jerking it before he sent that picture.

“That’s good to hear, Pete. Can you wait for me just a little bit longer? You’re doing so good,” Wade lets his voice roll over into a purr.

Peter’s quick breathing stutters, a high pitched squeak sounding out, “Y- yes, I can. You need, ngg, need to catch up.”

Wade laughs and stands up to dig through his couch cushions. He finds a wad of cash, a bag of either cocaine or flour  _ {Really no way to be sure until we try it!} _ , and a vibrator before his fingers grab around a bottle of lube.

“A-ha! Found the lube!”

“Oh, thank christ! Wade,  _ please, _ ” Peter sounds desperate for anything, “I’m trying. I’m trying to be good.”

“And you are, honey-buns. Since you’ve been being such a good boy for me, why don’t you wrap your hand around that gorgeous cock of yours?”

Wade barely has the words out when Peter is groaning with relief. Wade can hear a whisper of thanks and the slick sound of rubbing.

_ {Naughty, naughty! We should give him a spanking just for that.} _

**{I bet he could cum right now and still get it up for us right after.}**

_ {Oh, yeesss. Tell him to do that, tell him! Oh, he makes such pretty noises; I wanna hear him cum twice tonight!} _

“Oh, no no no, Pete. Did I say you could do that?” Peter whines in response, but it only makes Wade all the more excited to hear how many whimpers he can get out of him. “Poor thing. Go ahead, then!”

“Really?” Peter, his smart baby boy, sounds a little disbelieving, but his impulse wins out, “Ah, yes!”

Wade bites back a smile at Peter’s eagerness, humming as he lubes up his fingers to the soundtrack of Peter’s moaning.

He starts rubbing himself gently, as Peter winds down and his voice is a little unsteady when he asks, “There, yes. Gods, baby, was that good?”

Peter moans softly, “Hmm, yes. Thank you for not asking me to wait.”

“Oh, but I don’t want you to be done. Don’t you think you could get off one more time for me?  _ With  _ me?”

Wade hears a soft yelp followed by spluttering from Peter, “What? I don’t know if I can, Wade!”

He hisses softly as he finally pushes a finger inside himself, rubbing it around and reaching in as far as he can.

_ {Just… no, the other way! The other, other way!}  _

He grunts as the tip of his finger finally grazes against the edge of his prostate. 

“Are you… Wade?” Peter almost whispers, “What are you…?”

“Aaah, fuck, Petey- fingering myself. Ung, that’s what I wanted tonight, especially after you sent me those oh so perfect pictures.” He pulls his finger out so he can more easily maneuver his second finger in with it, aiming back towards his happy spot. 

An almost soundless whimper floats through the phone followed by the sloppy sounds that have to be Peter starting to pull on his dick again. 

“Yeah, baby boy. That get you going again?”

He’s got both fingers as far inside as he can get, but it just isn’t anywhere near enough. It’s so hard to reach his prostate from this angle in anything but grazes!

Reaching out to the coffee table, he unsticks the base of his sparkly unicorn horn dildo. 

“I want you to imagine fucking me this time, can you do that? Lay on your stomach and fuck your sloppy, wet hand.” He’s lubing up the dildo as he says it. When he finally starts pressing it into himself, the stinging stretch is exactly what he’s been craving. “Mm,  _ fuck!”  _

He hears rustling on the other side of the phone followed by a whine from Peter. 

“Ah, Christ, I would love to feel that, just feel you pounding into me with that super strength of yours, ung-  _ fuck _ , that feels good,” he angles the horn as he thrusts it shallowly, rubbing his prostate with every motion.

_ {Ooohh, yeeeesss… I want him to fuck us so hard he breaks us!}  _

“Oh, oh, are you- do you have a toy?” Peter’s voice is high and breathy as he asks.

“Hells yes, baby boy. A little something- right  _ there- _ to help me out. You like the sound of that?”

“Yes! Yeah, I do. I love listening to you, I love how rough your voice gets when you’re feeling good.” 

**{Tell him we love him.}**

_ {Tell him we love his little pink cock!}  _

**{Tell him.}**

“I love the little noises you- oh, make, Petey. That brea- Ah!” Wade hits his prostate head on and twitches, “breathy voice kills me every ti-time.” 

“Mm, Wade.” Peter whines into the phone. Wade can hear his breath hitch more than before, he’s definitely getting close. 

“Almost there, baby?” 

“Fuck-” The wet slipping of Peter’s hand becomes more erratic. Wade focuses on the noise, matching the rhythm with the horn, pushing himself closer and closer to the edge. 

“Yeeessss, fuck me hard, baby boy! I wanna be able to feel it tomorrow. With a healing factor like mine, you’ll really have to put your back into it,” he growls out, grinding the dildo up hard against himself. The spike of almost pain at the overstimulation is what sends him tumbling over. 

“Fuck!” he snarls out, finally getting a hand on his dick, jerking himself through the last pulses. 

“Yes!” Peter cries out. “Oh, I’m so close, please-”

“Cum for me, Petey.” 

“Oh, fu- Oh, oh-!” Peter’s cries are the best music to come down to, no question about it. 

_ {Nngg, his noises are so perfect, I love them!} _

**{Tell him we love him.}**

_ {Whoa, wait now! We can’t just tell him that!}  _

**{He’s perfect and he likes us. We can’t do any better! Tell him.}**

“I’m definitely not telling him that, yet!” Wade yelps. 

Peter’s voice is confused, even over the gasping breaths of him coming down from orgasm, “What?”

“Oh! Not you, sorry,” Wade reassures Peter softly. 

_ {And what the Betty White’s older than sliced bread is going on with this love bullshit? Just earlier tonight you were still waffling about even trusting the guy!!}  _

**{Yeah, but that was before I knew that we** **_could_ ** **trust him. Honestly, he sounded like a kid who didn’t know what he was getting himself into. If he’s the one reaching out to us, then he must be serious about this. He’s obviously perfect.}**

“Guys, just-! Um, sorry, Petey. Just… some extra noise up in the brain pan tonight?”

“Are you okay? I didn’t- I didn’t do anything wrong, did I?” Peter hesitantly asks. 

“No, no! You were perfect tonight, Peter, this was amazing!” Wade rushes to say. “Just the boxes are being a little loud. You don’t mind if I let you go? I promise to text you later and nothing is wrong. You were perfect and amazing.”

“Yeah… yeah, that’s fine. Hey, guys?”

_ {Huh? He talking to us?} _

**{Yes, Peter?}**

“Please, be nice to Wade,” Peter says earnestly, “Okay, um, goodnight!”

“Get some sleep, baby boy,” he turns his head slightly, hissing at the boxes. “Seriously, guys, you’ve got to be quieter when I’m talking to the angel.” 

**{But we want to talk to him too!}**

_ {Speak for yourself, White! I just want to talk to his ass!}  _

“Really, Petey, I had a great time. You’re the honey to my bee and the bacon to my egg. Hngg, and I loved that picture of your pretty pink dick. It’s gonna be my new favorite for the spank bank.” 

_ {That was pathetic, but make sure to tell him we loved his dick!} _

**{He** **_just_ ** **said that, you piece of literal trash.}**

“Oh my god, shut up!” 

Peter bursts into laughter. 

“No, no, no, I didn’t mean you!” Wade says frantically. 

“It’s really okay. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Yes, okay. Bye, Petey.” Wade hangs up and throws his head back onto the couch, “God! Could you guys be any louder up there?” 

**{Are you ever going to get off the dildo?}**

_ {Oh! I think the authors forgot about that!}  _

**{Continuity, I swear.}**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://bad-dragon.com/products/mystic
> 
> Here it is! Rainbow unicorn horn dildo.


	10. Not The Type of Dick I Was Looking For

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a little short! But they all get longer from here.
> 
> Thanks as always to monsterleen!

A couple days later, Peter is jumping from roof to roof a few blocks from his apartment for some early evening investigating. There’d been reports of suspected gang activity closer to his territory, but he hasn’t been able to catch anything late at night. 

“Peter, Mr. Stark is calling, would you like me to answer?” Karen chimes in.

“What is he calling for? Yeah, Karen, answer it, please.” Peter lands himself on a flagpole hanging over the street as he waits for the line to pick up, “Mr. Stark? What’s up, do the Avengers have a mission you need me for?”

“Can you come to the tower? I think we should go over this in person, so you understand the severity of the situation. Happy should be at your aunt’s house in about twenty.” Tony sounds more irked than worried.

“Yeah, I’ll be home. Can you tell me how serious this is?” 

“No, we’ll talk about it when you get here, Peter. Goodbye.” Tony doesn’t wait for Peter to respond, just hangs up. 

Peter frowns in confusion. It must not be a deadly situation if he’s going to the tower first, so he turns around, ready to enjoy the swing back to the apartment. He’s light with contentment as he zigzags his way back home. He smiles in delight at the feeling of wind hitting his suit as he throws a web and dives off of a company building. 

It only takes a few minutes to swing into his open bedroom window. He tucks and rolls, foot hitting his desk chair as he lands, “Ow!” Peter pulls off his mask and grabs a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie hanging off of his bunk. 

He limps to his bedroom door, “May! I’m home. Happy is on his way; I’ve gotta go see Mr. Stark for a mission.” 

“Peter, come out here.” She calls back. Peter quickly pulls the sweatpants on over his suit, grabs his phone off his desk, and jogs out to the kitchen.

“What’s up, May- Happy? Mr. Stark said you’d be here in twenty minutes. I don’t think I took that long.” 

“I have police sirens, kid. Come on, he wants you there as soon as possible.” Happy turns to May and smiles, “I promise to bring him back in one piece, May. Thank you for the coffee.” 

“Anytime, Happy. Don’t be a stranger. I know you only come around when Tony needs Peter, but we would love to have you over for dinner or a barbeque sometime.” She smiles sweetly and looks over at Peter. “You, mister, need to promise me that you’ll be safe. Happy said he’ll bring you home, but you have to promise to try to stay with all of your insides on the inside.” 

He walks over to her, putting his sweatshirt on and shoving his mask and phone into its pocket, “I promise to stay in one piece, Aunt May. We’re just doing a brief about the next mission, anyway. I won’t get into any trouble.” 

Happy is waiting at the front door, glancing at his watch every few seconds. “Come on, kid. Stark wanted you at the tower yesterday.” Peter hurries over, smiling one more time at May before shutting the door behind him. 

“So can you tell me anything about this mission, Happy?”

“No. Stark said to get you to the tower, he’ll go over everything.” 

The suspense is killing Peter. Despite his earlier confidence in the situation, he’s beginning to wonder if something’s gone wrong. He starts drumming his fingers on his leg. 

“Stop it, I can’t think when you tap like that.” Happy glares in the rearview mirror at Peter, “We’ll be there in a little under an hour. Just play on your phone or something.” 

“How’s the new tower? Do you guys like being upstate?” Peter hears Happy grunt from the front seat and he smirks. The man is so easy to annoy, what with him being serious all the time. “Okay, Happy.” Then Peter pulls out his phone and starts scrolling through Instagram. 

The hour passes rather quickly once Peter finds something to do on his phone. He slides it back into his sweatpants pocket, trading it for his mask, when they park in a reserved garage.

“Stark said to send you up to the thirteenth floor. It’s his office.” 

“Thanks, Happy.” Peter opens the door and slides out. His sleeve gets caught in the seat belt buckle and he stumbles. “Crap!” 

“Jesus, kid. It’s a seatbelt, not the Hulk.” Happy grumbles from his seat. Peter doesn’t respond, noticing Happy’s smirk, just fixes his sleeve and heads to the private elevator.  

Before walking inside, Peter slips on his mask. The new tower is similar to the last one, albeit smaller. There are far fewer people milling about for him to encounter, but he still prefers to be on the safe side. Pressing button thirteen, he relaxes into the railing until the music comes on. The three piano notes played over and over slowly grate on his nerves from sheer boredom.

“You know, you should really change that elevator music, Mr. Stark. It’s really boring,” He says as soon as the doors start to open, already taking his mask off. 

Tony is sitting behind his desk in the office made for private, one on one meetings. Dressed in his stiff work clothes, he looks less like the sleep deprived mechanic Peter has come to know, and more like the owner of Stark Industries.

“We’re working on it, Peter. Come over here and sit down. I want you to look at something.” Peter walks over to the desk and plops down into a chair. Tony looks tightly wound, his jaw set and eyes squinting. “Is there anything you want to tell me, Peter? Any pieces of information you may have glossed over when updating me?” 

_ Shit. _

  


“Uhm, no? Nothing new, just normal patrols. I stopped a rapist a while ago, but mostly petty crimes.”

“Really, no extra supers or mutants helping you out on your patrols?” Tony has a paper in his hand. Peter shakes his head, his eyes never leaving the paper, scared for what could be on the cover. 

Tony slaps it down on the desk in front of Peter and scoffs, “Seriously, Peter. I’m not an idiot. You really think I wasn’t going to catch on once you picked up this piece of shit?” 

The paper has a picture of Spider-Man and Deadpool, and Deadpool sporting his dress. The title reads,  **_Spider-Man Menace Shows his True Colors!_ **

Underneath the title is a line that Peter can definitely understand might irritate Tony. The subtitle reads,  **_Ex-military and LGBTQIA+ Spokesperson Deadpool is harassed for dispensing justice!_ ** _  written by J. J. Jameson.  _

“How long have you been hanging around Wade Wilson?” Tony’s voice raises in aggravation.

Peter flinches, “A while.” 

“How long is ‘a while’, Peter? Answer carefully. Remember, I can end Spiderman right here, right now.”

The words are a knife to his throat, “You wouldn’t do that…”

But Tony’s eyes harden as he somehow looks down at Peter from the same height. He’s wrong. Tony would do something like that to protect the Avengers, to protect himself, and to protect Spiderman. He truly thinks Wade is a threat to him, and Tony would do anything to prevent Peter from getting into trouble.

Panic floods his system. He knows Mr. Stark can take the suit and Peter will have to go back to the ratty sweatshirt costume he started with. “We’ve been patrolling together for a few months now,” Peter drops his head down, fiddling with the string on his sweatpants. 

“You know he’s dangerous, don’t you? He’s killed upwards of the population of a small town in Maine.” 

This wasn’t fair! Wade had been trying so hard to be a hero, for months now! What right did Tony Stark have to act like Peter was doing something wrong here?

“He’s been trying hard, Mr. Stark! He’s done everything right, once I gave him the chance, and he truly cares about getting better,” Peter has to convince Tony. He can’t stand the thought of the drastic actions the other man might take to keep Peter away from Wade.

“Peter, I know he may not seem like it, but Wade Wilson is a cunning, manipulative man. He’s a mercenary who answers to no one but himself.”

“He’s not like that anymore!” Exasperated resentment loud in his voice, Peter stares at the other man. The words don’t have any impact on Tony’s tight features. 

“I thought you were smarter than this, Peter,” he sighs and opens a desk drawer, pulling a fancy glass bottle from the bottom, “There’s no real consequences for an immortal person. All it takes is one tantrum, one slip up and he’ll put you in serious danger.”

The words sting like alcohol. Embarrassingly, the sting reaches his eyes, humiliating Peter all the more. 

“He’s not dangerous to me,” Peter finally mumbles, eyes filling with tears. 

“He is dangerous to everyone! This article talks about him like he’s a messiah and you know he’s not! He kills for a living!” 

“No!” A few frustrated tears fall down Peter’s face, but he can’t hold his words in anymore, “It’s too late for you to try to butt in now! We’re good together, he doesn’t kill when he’s patrolling with me! He keeps me safe and I make sure he doesn’t kill, it works. This feels right, us doing things together! I know you think you’re protecting me, but this is what I’m doing. I’m an adult, I can make my own decisions!”

“An adult?” Tony huffs, disbelieving, and takes a long sip from his glass, “There are two things that kids your age cannot make a good decision about: love and safety.

Peter’s lips pinch together in anger. He wants to defend Wade from Tony’s horrible accusations, but he’s reminded that he’s skating a dangerous line. If he confesses his relationship with the mercenary in anger, then Tony will respond just as angrily.

Peter takes a deep breath, “Mr. Stark, I have to trust Wade. He’s my friend… and,” Jeeze, this is harder than he thought it would be, “Not only a friend.”

Tony stares, astonished. Then, after a minute, he starts yelling, “I will kill him. You’re not an adult, you’re 17! Does he know that, does he know how old you actually are?! I’ll set that straight in a minute, all it takes is a call!”

Peter is halfway across the desk with tears in his eyes before he gathers his wits.

“Mr. Stark! The age of consent is 17 here, and I graduated already! My birthday is soon, so it won’t even matter anyway!” He argues.

“The hell it doesn’t! I will not let this monster take advantage of you.”

Peter feels a sharp pain in his chest. He rubs at his eyes, realizing that he’s crying again. It’s not true. Wade has been caring and lovely through every second of their romancing.

“He  _ is not _ !” Peter lets the burning of his eyes smother the pain in his chest, “I’m taking advantage of him!”

Tony is staring at him, phone forgotten in his hand. “Peter, what-?”

He tries to explain himself, but when he inhales, his breath goes wobbly and his throat clogs up.

The second his anger is gone, the sharp pain returns and blinds him with tears. Because it’s horribly true. He wants so badly to stay with Wade but he hates how his age sits like a go-to excuse for everyone to discredit the man. Peter hasn’t lied to Wade about his age, but he’s never fully told the truth, either. 

Peter stands, tears still falling down his face. He sprints to the elevator, button mashing until the doors open. 

“Peter-” Peter presses the first floor button and looks at Tony, still standing next to his desk, now staring after him in shock.

“Fuck off, Mr. Stark!” He shouts as the doors close. 

While the elevator descends, Peter gasps, sobs wracking his body. He flings himself up into the upper corner of the elevator, making himself as small as possible. He wants to hide from everything and high corners always help to make him feel safer. But too soon the elevator reaches the ground floor and he has to let himself down before anyone sees him clinging to the ceiling. 

Face covered in tears, he walks as calmly as possible out of the elevator. 

“Peter?” Happy is sitting on the hood of the car, looking up from his phone, “You okay?”

Peter opens the car door and shuffles himself inside, “Just take me home, please.”


	11. If You Like That You Should See My Dick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're so so so sorry this is late coming up! Honestly, we just forgot about it. Fair warning, we do switch POV a couple times in this chapter. 
> 
> Thanks as always to monsterleen for beta!

“Karen, wrist screen, I want to text Wade.” Peter is pacing on the rooftop of his apartment building barely an hour later, fully suited up. 

“Yes, Peter.” Her voice comes through calmly and the back of his left wrist has turned into a holographic cell phone screen, opened at Wade’s number. 

 

**_9:28_ ** **pm Peter**

_ Are you free right now?  _

**_9:29 pm_ ** **Peter**

_ Wade? Are you awake? _

**_9:30 pm_ ** **Wade**

_ Wuts up bb?  _

**_9:30 pm_ ** **Peter**

_ I need to talk to you.  _

 

Peter paces back and forth, waiting impatiently for Wade’s answer. It’s a little frustrating; usually Wade’s replies are near instant. Suddenly the screen erupts with 3 new texts almost on top of each other. 

 

**_9:34 pm_ ** **Wade**

_ R u ok? _

_ R u breaking up w me? _

_ Peter _

**_9:35 pm_ ** **Peter**

_ No, I’m not breaking up with you. Something came up and I don’t know what to do. I want to talk to you  _

 

He blows out a breath and swings to the building over, just for something to do. He lands, checks his messages, and begins to pace again.

 

**_9:39 pm_ ** **Wade**

_ K same plc as last? Im near _

**_9:39 pm_ ** **Peter**

_ Yeah, that works  _

_ I’ll be there in 5 _

**_9:41 pm_ ** **Wade**

_ C u there _

 

Peter immediately sets off at a fast pace. He doesn’t realize he’s not breathing until his arms start to burn. He forces himself to slow down, but the second he does all the thoughts come crashing back. 

Having his suit taken away again is terrifying in a way Peter had never considered. His suit was Spiderman. His patrols didn’t start until the mask was on, the lens focused, the webshooters checked. But he would still go out as Spiderman, even if he only had his footie pajamas and goggles.

When he lands on the building with the people symbol mural, Wade hasn’t arrived. He’s just thinking about texting Wade again when a clatter from the fire escape startles him. 

“I’m here, I’m coming!” Wade’s masked head pops up over the side of the roof. 

Unlike how swinging had hyped him up, each inch of Wade pulling himself into sight helps Peter slow down. Wade makes problems go away and when Peter asks for help, Wade drops everything to figure out what Peter needs.

Peter starts towards him, and as soon as Wade steps off the fire escape, Peter rushes forward to wrap his arms around the man. 

“Hey, hey, are you okay? What’s wrong, what did you need to talk about?” Wade anxiously wraps his arms around Peter, accepting the nearly crushing grip. 

Peter breathes in the contact for another second, then pulls back enough to speak, “I'm sorry for worrying you. It’s just been a really awful afternoon.”

“What happened?” Wade bends slightly to look at him mask to mask, “Who made you cry?” 

Peter’s laugh is strangled, but audible. “How can you always tell what I’m feeling or how my day has gone through my suit and mask?”

“You have a  _ tone _ of aura, of course.” He nods gravely, a sly edge in his voice.

Peter’s laugh is more genuine this time, despite his lingering stress and fear over his fight with Tony. Wade’s hands come up and hold his jaw. His touch is warm, even through the gloves, and Peter wants nothing more than to feel Wade’s skin burning against his. 

“Kiss me, please?” Peter’s words carry an edge of pleading. He reaches forward and slowly pushes Wade’s mask to his nose, “Without this, please, babe?” 

“Yeah... Can you close your eyes for me?” Wade’s chin and lips grow red with embarrassment. 

Peter nods and shuts his eyes, “Okay.” 

* * *

 

Wade takes a breath and delicately tugs his mask the rest of the way off. He leans forward and lightly presses his lips to the smaller man’s own, then he squeezes Peter a little tighter. When he pulls back, he stares at Peter’s calm face, enjoying the last few seconds he’ll have with Peter still willing to be his boyfriend. “Um, okay. You can look.” 

Peter’s eyes flutter open, then flit across the face in front of him. Wade can’t stand the silence, so he hums a few random notes. 

**{Way to go fuckwad, you scared him shitless.}**

_ {He’ll never love us now, you’ve let him see all the ugly!}  _

“You’re beautiful,” Peter’s words cut off the boxes. 

_ {Whaaa?}  _

**{What the fuck?}**

_ {Did he just call our ugly mug beautiful? He’s gotta be lying!}  _

**{No way in hell he was talking about us!}**

“Wade, look at me please.” Peter reaches forward, almost touching Wade’s chest, but not quite. 

Wade lifts his head and Peter gasps.

“Your eyes are- they’re two different color,.” his face fills with wonder. 

{ _ He thinks that’s cute? _ }

{ **What the hell is wrong with this kid? He should be running the other way!** } __

“Pete-” 

“Don’t put yourself down, please,” Peter’s fingers brush up on Wade’s jaw, lightly pressing into the skin. “You’re beautiful.” 

“I look like a chainsaw fucked an avocado, baby boy. There isn’t anything pretty about what you’re looking at.” 

“I told you not to put yourself down,” he presses a few fingers into Wade’s neck, forcing Wade to finally meet his eyes. Peter smiles, “You’re wonderful. And your eyes- have they always been two colors?” 

“No. During my whole dramatic backstory, Weapon X scooped out one of my eyes. When it grew back the first time it looked like this.” 

Peter’s eyes are still glued to Wade’s face when he suddenly startles, his eyes flitting rapidly over the visible skin. “Your scars move?” 

“Another perk from the tools at Weapon X. Although, I don’t think they planned for this one. My cells regenerate so fast that scars and wounds come and go all the time. I mean it’s only disgusting when I’m getting off little Jimmy, here, and an open sore appears on my left ball sack!” 

A giggle slips through Peter’s lips, “Poor little Jimmy.” 

Wade suddenly falls silent, eyes flitting over Peter’s face before settling on his mouth. 

**{Please don’t. I really don’t feel like watching this trainwreck.}**

_ {You’ve got no faith in our Peter! He’s clearly a kinky freak who likes all this nasty.} _

**{He’s a kid who has no idea what he’s getting himself into!}**

Maybe it is finally time to let things go a little further. He leans forward, catching Peter’s lips in his. His fingers wrap tightly around Peter’s waist, pulling him close. 

_ {Yes! I love sexy times!}  _

Peter moans lightly as Wade’s fingers tighten on his hips. 

Wade opens his mouth to bite Peter’s bottom lip. He then pulls back to slide his mouth down Peter’s neck, sucking lightly. “God, Petey, you’re just so sexy. Love your little noises so much.” 

He opens his mouth against Peter’s neck, biting down gently.

_ {No! His mouth! Go back to his mouth!} _

**{I thought you liked leaving marks.}**

_ {But- I- His mouth? Uuuunnngg, I wanna suck on his tongue.}  _

For once Wade decides to listen to Yellow. Peter’s mouth  _ is  _ so perfect; so pretty and pink and delectable. 

He moves back up, licking delicately against Peter’s lower lip. Peter opens obediently, tongue inching out to meet Wade’s. 

_ {Oh oh!! Grab his ass!} _

**{We** **_have_ ** **wanted to know if it’s as tight as it looks.}**

Wade slides his hands farther down Peter’s hips, curling around the curve of his ass. Cupping as much as he can, he squeezes gently and grinds himself forward. A low groan slides from his throat. That ass is just as perfect as he thought it would be.

Peter whines, jerking his hips against Wade’s. Wade can feel how hard the other man is against him. 

Peter pulls back suddenly, pushing Wade’s hands away from his body. “No, no stop. I’m sorry, I’m not ready yet.” 

“Pete, did I go too far?” Wade’s voice is still gruff with arousal, but he lets Peter pull away. He moves further back, eyeing Peter with concern.

“I know you wanted something more, but I just can’t, not yet.” 

Wade shakes his head at Peter, “Baby boy, it’s okay! We can go as fast as you want. You set the pace!” 

“I just,” Peter’s eyes flick away as he hesitates. Still staring behind Wade, he continues, “I’m just not ready.”

**{I knew this would happen. He can’t look at us.}**

_ {Why did you have to ruin it with your pizza face?}  _

Wade frowns at the boxes. Peter had sounded honest, but his words were hard to believe. Wade knew he wasn’t easy to look at by any means, but he had hoped that Peter would be truthful with him. 

“I know I’m hard to look at. Thanks for taking it like a champ,” bitterness laces itself into Wade’s words. 

“No-”

“You don’t have to defend it, it’s okay. I know I look like Thumper got hit with a five iron after being steamrolled.” 

“Wade, no-”

“Seriously, Peter, it’s okay.” Wade turns away from the smaller man, hoping that if he can jump off the building with enough momentum, he’ll kill himself for a few minutes.

**{Disgusting, he thinks we’re disgusting. Why would you show him our face?}**

_ {Maybe if we jump in some acid?}  _

“Wade, it’s not because of your skin.” 

“You don’t need to lie, of course it’s my skin!” 

_ {Forget the acid, he wouldn’t care about our skin if we just blindfold him. Fuck him from behind?} _

**{That’s a horrible idea, Yellow. What if the blindfold comes off? Then Peter vomits all over the bed** **_and_ ** **our dick!}**

_ {Okay, gag him too?}  _

Wade shakes his head, trying to silence the boxes. 

“No, I’m just not ready, okay? I’m kinda inexperienced and you’re not and it’s intimidating! I just need a little bit to catch up with you,” Peter wrings his hands together tightly. 

“Pete-” 

“I’m serious, your face is gorgeous. Like holy shit, your cheekbones,” Peter flails his hand towards Wades face, “You’re gorgeous and you know what you’re doing and I just don’t, okay? Honestly, Wade, I’ve never been with anyone and the idea of you going too fast scares me a lot,” Peter’s breath picks up at the end, nerves getting the best of him. 

**{Oh.}**

_ {Wait wait wait wait wait wait, hold the phone! He’s a total virgin? Like, we get to take his top and bottom virginity?}  _

**{Hey dicks for brains, maybe fucking focus on how scared this kid is right now? Think with your joystick** **_later_ ** **.}**

The tension in Wade’s shoulders suddenly dissipates, “Okay.” 

“I’ll get there, but you ne- what? Did you just say okay?” 

“Yeah,” he very carefully reaches towards Peter, fingers ghosting his hip. “There’s nothing wrong with that. I’m sorry I freaked out. I’m a little insecure right now with my face on display.” 

Peter smiles lightly, “Don’t be insecure. I do love your face.” He presses up, moving to his toes, to place a small kiss on the corner of Wade’s mouth. 

**{We love Peter kisses, no matter how soft.}**

“Mmhm,” Wade agrees and chases Peter’s mouth.

 They kiss lightly, but press hard into each other’s bodies. 

_ {Why aren’t we fucking his mouth anymore?}  _

**{Because he doesn’t want our tongue trying to reach his balls through his throat right now! This is a sweet moment!}**

“Do you want to come back to one of my safehouses? We can play video games and eat pizza and tacos and cuddle and watch movies?” Wade pulls his head back and smiles sweetly. 

“I would love that.” Peter pushes his face into Wade’s collarbone, breathing in the scent of leather and gun oil. 

Peter asks for directions to Wade’s apartment. It’s easier to swing there with Wade on his back, rather than wait for the man to climb buildings. As they swing through Manhattan, Wade tries not to holler too loudly in the other man’s ear.

“Woohoo! I love this, Spidey! We should do this every night!” 

Peter laughs, “I don’t think I can carry you every night.” 

“Pfft, I heard that when you went to Germany to fight the Cap, you lifted a semi truck. I bet carrying me around is a walk in the park for you!” 

“Yeah, now that you mention it, you are really light!” Peter flings around a corner, obviously delighted at Wade’s scream.

Once they reach the building, Peter drops Wade on the fire escape right outside of his window. “Okay, baby, I know the place is a mess, so please don’t judge me.” 

“Don’t worry about it, Wade,” Peter shrugs. 

Wade jimmies the window and shoves a muscular leg through. Peter follows close behind and stutters to a stop when he’s fully inside the apartment. Wade senses the surprise in the way Peter stands. 

The room that they’re in, the bedroom, is full of half eaten pizza boxes and a queen size bed. Dirty shirts and obviously cum-stained gym shorts litter the floor. 

“Like I said, please don’t judge the mess. It’s been a while since I’ve cleaned in here.” 

“I guess I can’t be that upset about the mess, I hide all of my dirty laundry from my aunt on my top bunk,” Peter jokes while pushing past Wade to explore the rest of the apartment. 

“A laundry bed? Seriously? I thought those were only real in fanfiction?” 

**{They are, this is a fanfiction.}**

_ {Do we think Peter leaves cum-stained clothes on his laundry bed too?}  _

**{Absolutely.}**

“Jesus, shut up for a minute, will ya? So, Petey, what do you want to play?”  

“Actually, what movies do you have?” Peter swivels his head back and forth, looking from Wade to the TV. 

“Well Petey, we’ve got Love, Actually, uhm, the Home Alone trilogy, the Hobbit Trilogy, oh the Lord of the Rings Trilogy, the Star Wars saga- Okay, basically any movie series that runs in three’s, I’ve got it.” 

“Star Wars? But not the prequel, I hate the prequel.” 

Wade gasps animatedly, “A man after my heart! How about the original three? We don’t have to watch them all tonight, of course!” 

“Sounds good, Wade. Do you mind if I take off my mask? It’s a little stuffy in here.” 

_ {Tell him to take off everything so we can see that pretty little cock he has.}  _

**{Just tell him to strip from his suit, it’s not like he can wear boxers under there. He’s probably going commando, or wearing a thong.}**

_ {Oo! Our precious Peter in a thong!} _

“Take off whatever you’d like, Petey pie! I don’t mind.” He shakes away the voices by mumbling, “No, we’re not asking him to strip just yet. He likes us, we want to keep it that way.” 

“What’d you say?” Peter asks while pulling his mask off. His hair goes in six different directions and the confused puppy look on his face makes Wade swoon a little. 

“Nothing, baby boy.” Wade reaches forward to press his hair down a little. Peter smiles thankfully. Once Wade’s hand wraps some hair around Peter’s ear, the smaller man nuzzles into it. 

“Put on the movie so we can cuddle, Wade,” Peter turns around and sits down on the left side of Wade’s tattered couch. 

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” Wade grins and puts the movie into his TV. He does a 180 and plops down next to him. 

Peter immediately scrambles closer to the larger man, “You’re so warm, don’t mind me just-” he mumbles, placing himself under Wade’s muscular arm. 

“Cold there, dollface?” 

“A little,” Peter blushes, lashes fanning over his eyes.  

_ {Fuck him. Fuck him right here on this couch.}  _

**{No, maybe take him to the bed first, then fuck him.}**

_ {Tear his clothes off and abuse his little hole; those eyes should be a sin.}  _

“You’re so damn cute, sugar baby, even the boxes think so.” Wade pulls up his mask to his nose and places a light kiss in Peter’s hair. 

Peter squeaks, a blush covering his face immediately. “They do?” 

“Yeah, White likes you so much! Yellow mostly still just wants to fuck you, but he’s getting there,” Wade cards his hand through Peter’s hair. Peter purrs softly at the touch. 

**{Okay, we can fuck him into the couch.}**

_ {That noise was made in heaven.} _

* * *

 

Peter swings home a few hours later. On the way back, he thinks about the night. The movie was long and gave him enough time to soak up some of Wade’s warmth. Despite being fit, Peter can’t hold in body heat to save his life, probably something to do with his spider senses. 

Peter’s thoughts moved from Wade’s warm body to their conversations during the movie. Wade kept mumbling things to the boxes, apparently they couldn’t quiet down long enough for him to enjoy the movie fully. 

Peter distinctly remembers Wade saying, “No no, we won’t bother him about his age just yet,” about halfway through the movie. It sent a shot of panic down his spine. 

He can’t believe he’s been lying about his age this whole time! Well, it’s not exactly lying when Wade still hasn’t asked for his age. But the guilt is still real and definitely needs to be taken care of before it eats Peter alive. 

_ On my birthday. I’ll tell him on my birthday.  _


	12. I'm Sorry for Being a Dick

“Dude, you still haven’t told him how old you actually are!?” Ned nearly drops the lego starship they’re working on. 

“Jesus, don’t drop it, and it hasn’t come up! Besides, the age of consent in New York is 17! It’s not like he’d get arrested or anything if we had sex!” 

“Yeah, but have you thought about how he might feel about it? He’s gotta be like thirty. You don’t actually know if he wants to be screwing around with a kid. Have you at least asked about his thoughts on the age of consent here?” 

“No! He’s not stupid. If I ask about it, he’ll probably figure out that I’m super close to it. He knows I’m out of high school and that’s all that matters.” 

“He’s going to figure it out anyway, Peter. I’m serious, the longer you wait, the angrier he’s going to be that you didn’t tell him.” 

Guilt washes over Peter again. His face burns red and he feels like crying, “I just don’t want him to stop talking to me. I really like him, Ned.” 

“I know, man. I haven’t seen you this happy since...” 

“Since Uncle Ben. Yeah.” 

The conversation dies off a little, both boys feeling the tension. Ned continues to build the starship, while Peter sits at his desk. Pulling out his phone, he scrolls through his texts with Wade. 

Peter comes across the last nude he sent and smiles, thinking back to that night. “He told me the other day that the boxes like me.” 

“The boxes? Who the heck are the boxes?” 

“Nothing, it’s just- the boxes, that’s what he calls the voices in his head.” 

“Peter, you didn’t mention that he’s schizophrenic.” Ned stops, looking at Peter in concern. 

“They started after he got experimented on. It’s because of Weapon X or whatever. He calls them Yellow and White. They say a lot of nasty stuff to him, but they like me, I guess. It started the night we had our real first date, the night he wore a dress.” 

“And it doesn’t bother you that he has voices?” 

“No, it never has. It was a little weird at first, when he didn’t explain why he was talking to himself. But, after a while, it just became normal.” 

“Christ, Peter, do you want me to call MJ and get her over here?” Ned doesn’t wait, he pulls out his phone and starts texting MJ. 

After a while of staring at his phone he says, “She said she’ll be here in ten. And she’s staying the night, things are bad at home again.” 

“Ned, you didn’t have to-”

“Yes I did, she’s better at this emotional support schtick than I am.” Peter smiles at his friend, moving to join him on the floor. The two of them go back to working on the lego starship, hoping to finish before MJ arrives. 

MJ doesn’t bother to knock on Peter’s door anymore and is already speaking as she walks in, “Alright boys, what’s the problem?” 

“Why aren’t you going home tonight?” Peter changes the subject. 

“Why are you changing the subject? What’re you hiding, Peter?” She questions, tossing her backpack down next to the bunk. “It’s the same thing every time, my mom is mad at my dad for lying to her, he thinks he can still pretend he didn’t lie, and I get yelled at.  _ So, _ I see you nerds are making a starship, anything interesting about this one?” 

Ned shakes his head, “Nope, just a normal starship.” 

She nods, “Cool, so what the hell am I here for?” Her eyes fall to Peter. 

“Peter’s having Deadpool issues, and I can’t do emotional support the way you can.” 

“My emotional support is telling you to suck it up.” MJ smirks, “Lay it on me, Parker.” 

“I just haven’t told him I’m not 18 yet.” He sighs, “And Mr. Stark brought me out to the new Tower, because J. J. Jameson wrote a frickin’ article about Wade and I patrolling together. He threatened to take my suit, MJ, and I know he will if he thinks I’m going to be a problem for the Avengers.” Peter’s face turns red, getting worked up again. 

“Wait a minute, wait a fucking minute. Have you guys had sex?!” Ned chokes the words out.

“No! We haven’t done anything in person yet, just phone stuff. I’m not having sex with him until after my birthday, I’m not ready yet!”

“It doesn’t matter if you’re not ready yet, Peter. He’s a grown ass adult, and he deserves to know what he’s getting into with you!” MJ gripes.

Peter could hear Aunt May in the living room, just coming home from her shift. “Shut up, MJ, if you yell, May will hear you!” 

“She fu-” The opening of Peter’s door cuts MJ off, and Aunt May peeks her head inside the room. 

“Are we having a party in here? What’s with the yelling?” 

“Nothing, May, we’re just making a starship.” Peter chimes, and Ned holds the starship up a little higher so she can see. 

May squints, obviously not believing Peter, but choosing not to say anything about it, “Alright, who’s staying for supper?” She meets the other’s eyes. 

Ned raises his hand and MJ just nods, “Is it okay if I stay here tonight, May? Parents are being assholes again. I promise not to have sex with Peter.” She crinkles her nose in fake disgust. 

May laughs, “Of course, Michelle, you’re always welcome here. Are you staying the night too, Ned?” 

Ned shakes his head, “No, thank you, Aunt May,” He says then looks back down at the lego pieces around him. May nods perfunctorily and shuts the bedroom door. 

“Seriously, Peter, you should have told him about your age when you guys started this shit,” MJ says flatly as she glares at him.

“You’re the one that started it! I didn’t send the fucking picture, MJ!” 

“Do you want me to apologize? Jesus, Peter, I’m sorry for sending that picture to Deadpool. It was uncool of me to assume you were never going to do anything about your stupid crush!” 

“MJ-”

“No! Get off your high horse! You chose to continue it, you should have been an adult and told Wade that you aren’t 18 yet!” 

Peter’s throat turns rough and it burns when he tries to force words out. Tears start to form in the corners of his eyes, “Please-” 

“And why haven’t you done anything about the top bed?” MJ seems on a roll, bulldozing right over what Peter was trying to say as she looks around the room, old annoyances adding on to her current anger. “Seriously, it’s so fucking disgusting, Peter! You’ve got jizz-stained clothes and there’s probably mold growing in your socks! Clean your shit! I will kick you to the floor and take your bed because you don’t have the human decency to clean the bed for me!”

“I fucked up, okay! I fucked up! You’re right, just stop yelling!” Peter stands from his chair, tears getting closer to plummeting down his cheeks. Peter can see Ned out of the corner of his eye, gathering up the legos in a pile and inching toward the door. He's probably hoping to keep out of MJ's line of fire. When she gets this pissed she usually rains all over everyone in the area.

“You really think May is stupid enough to not notice a pile of smelly clothes? I can smell it when I walk in the front door! You want to be treated like an adult, and get involved with an adult, but you don’t want to act like one? Grow up! I’ve already got enough stress with my parents.” MJ is getting more angry by the second, all of her stress and anger coming to a head. 

It’s too late to dodge MJ’s fist. By the time he notices it, she’s already hit him in the face. “I swear to god, I will not be your fucking babysitter, Parker!”

The punch is barely a scratch compared to what Peter’s used to from villains. From MJ, it almost knocks him to the ground. He hates the way both of them have shaky breathing, he’s so tired of crying, and he knows MJ is, too.

They stare at each other silently, at an impasse. The punch seemed to do exactly what MJ wanted and Peter is suddenly flushed with shame about how stupid he’s being. She’s right. He should have told Wade from the beginning about how old he is. 

And she’s right about the mess, too. He’s been so bound up in his new relationship with Wade that he’s just let everything slide. Peter touches his cheek, more to feel the heat than check for damage, and looks up at MJ.

Her fist is curled in a way that tells him it’s stinging badly and she opens her mouth to say something when Ned interrupts. 

“Um… guys? May just called for us,” Ned hesitantly offers from his spot by the door. 

At his words, MJ turns away and storms out of the bedroom, beginning to set the table. She puts her cup at the farthest end away from Peter’s. 

May doesn’t ask questions, feeling the tension in the air. 

As the three teens silently sit down at the table, May finally clears her throat, “So, what’d I miss today?” 

Ned keeps his eyes glued to his plate, making sure to chew slowly. 

“That’s a nice bruise you’ve got Peter, wonder who gave it to you,” MJ scoffs, eyes not leaving her plate either. 

“MJ-” Peter stops himself, Aunt May doesn’t need to hear about this. 

“Don’t worry Peter, I know she gave it to you. And I don’t know what it’s about, but I hope you two work it out.” May’s voice is stern, causing both him and MJ to look at her, “I love you both, and I want you two to get along. I know you’ll work through it.” 

MJ’s mouth twists in a weird grimace, her eyes darting up to meet Peter’s before she glares down at her mashed potatoes. 

Peter eats slowly, even though all he wants to do is shove food in his mouth and hide upstairs. Ned tries to talk about their starship, but Aunt May has to keep the conversation going when Peter doesn’t reply.

A small sniffling noise has Peter finally looking up. Across the table MJ is almost slumped over and Peter suddenly realizes how tired she looks. If anyone else heard her sniff they don’t mention it. 

“Does anyone need more potatoes? Another piece of meat?” Aunt May’s eyes flit across the table. She waits a few seconds for a response, then decides to start clearing the table. 

When the three teens move to help Aunt May carry the dishes into the kitchen, she waves them off, “No, no, you three go on. I can get this. I’m not an old lady yet, you know!”

Ned decides that the better part of valor might just be leaving. He wants to get as far away from the fighting as possible. “Night, guys,” he waves from down the hallway. Peter and MJ nod and walk back into the apartment. 

Peter grabs a basket from the laundry room on their way to his bedroom, “MJ, I’m sorry.” 

She only scoffs and throws herself onto his bed. 

Peter doesn’t try to get her attention, he knows she’s listening to him. He climbs up to the top bunk and starts throwing bunches of clothes into the basket below. 

Once it’s full, Peter comes down and walks it out to the washer. He walks back with another basket and finishes up the bunk. 

“MJ?” He glances at her curled up on his bed, facing away from him and above the sheets. “MJ, seriously, I’m sorry for yelling at you.” MJ is so still that Peter considers that she might have fallen asleep. 

Peter quietly pads to the linen closet in the hallway for some new sheets. Coming back into the room, he sees MJ looking at him. She quickly turns back around, though, facing the wall. 

Climbing back up, he puts the clean sheets on the bed and lays down. There’s no point in trying to move her, she’s won for the night. It feels a little weird up here, staring at the ceiling instead of the bars of the bunk above him. 

“Night MJ. I love you,” He mumbles into the darkness. 

“Night, Peter,” She sighs.


	13. Bill and Ted's Excellent Dick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright guys, I’ve sat back pretty submissively, watching the commenters take over. But the past few days have been a rollercoaster of me waking up pissed then coming back down and waking up pissed again. Everyone is ABSOLUTELY right to have an opinion, but I feel that it’s rude to attack an author for not writing something you like. It discourages the author from continuing, whether it be the current fic, or a new one.  
> We love criticism, but using it to slyly hide your hate isn’t appreciated. And I understand that the altercation can be triggering, but when I wrote it, I was pulling from a personal experience of mine. As we’ve said, 17 year olds get into fights all the time, even physical ones.  
> We do appreciate your feedback, truly.  
> Sincerely,  
> Drama

The sound of MJ rustling as she climbs out of bed is what wakes him up. He lays there with his eyes closed for a moment, listening as she moves around getting dressed. 

“MJ?” It comes out quieter than he meant, so he calls again as he looks over at her, “Are you leaving, MJ?”

“Yeah, I just don’t want to talk about it, Peter,” she looks up at him. “I’m just gonna go, I’ll text you sometime.”

Peter nods mutely at her, not knowing what to say except sorry. But she’s already walking out the door before he thinks to actually open his mouth and say the words. She closes the door softly behind her as she goes and he listens as she walks down the hall to join Aunt May in the kitchen. 

May greets her warmly, offering her the rest of breakfast and chattering away about her upcoming day. He listens to MJ’s voice slowly relax when May assures her that she’s always welcome over. Listening to all this behind a closed door, Peter lays silently until he hears the front door lock.

He should get up. Though he doesn’t need to, really. He’s not hungry, if anything he’s still tired. And now there’s no one home to force him out of bed. He slept okay last night for all the good it did him and his eyes slowly slip shut again as he continues to contemplate his ceiling. 

It’s the ding of an incoming text that has him opening his eyes again. Looking at the clock, he realizes he must have fallen back asleep at some point. He rubs the sleep from his eyes to see a message from Mr. Stark.

 

**_9:24_ ** **Mr. Stark**

_ You home, underoos? _

 

Peter just stares at the text for a little while. He’s still mad at the other man for how their conversation had gone the other day. What can he even say?

After a moment of silently staring at his phone, he sighs. He needs to say something at least. 

 

**_9:27_ ** **Peter**

_ Yes _

 

It’s less than thirty seconds later that Peter hears a knock on the door. That seems a little quick. Though it could always just be some weird religion pusher. He rolls out of bed, landing nimbly on his feet and grabbing a shirt as he walks past his computer chair on the way out of the room. 

When Peter opens the door, of course it’s Mr. Stark waiting on the other side. He can’t just wait for someone to acknowledge that they are home first, he has to appear at their door. 

“Hey kid. I decided this talk couldn’t wait,” Tony walks past Peter without waiting for him to say anything. 

Peter’s hands fly into the air, pantomiming frustration behind the other man before he sighs and lets the door swing closed, following Tony back into the apartment.

Tony moves around the couch, throwing himself down and turning to face Peter as me moves around to join him. 

“So…?” Peter drags the word out as he joins Tony on the couch. The other man is looking at him intensely and the look on his face is digging at Peter’s paranoia. 

Tony quirks an eyebrow at him, “So!” 

“Really, Mr. Stark? You came all this way just to stare at me?”

Tony scoffs, “Look kid, I’m just not sure how to start this conversation!”

“Well, are you still mad about me patrolling with Deadpool?” Peter hesitantly offers. 

“I suppose that’s as good a place as any to start, isn’t it?” Tony rolls his head on his neck, attempting to let out tension as he sighs heavily. “Look, I need you to give me the suit.”

Shock has Peter jerking back against the couch, “What? But, Mr. Stark-!”

“I’m sorry, I just don’t trust you to make good decisions right now.”

“What do you even mean? Good decisions like what?”

“Oh don’t give me that! Good decisions like not consorting with mercenaries, how about that? He’s a freaking whack-job who kills for money!” A light flush is rising on Tony’s cheekbones. 

“He’s doing better!” 

Tony scoffs at that, “And you know that how? Do you spend all day with him, or is he the one that tells you? What about the jobs he takes out town?”

“Of course I don’t, Mr. Stark! But I trust him when he tells me that he doesn’t kill anymore.”

“Yeah, and that’s why I’m here to tell you that I want you to give me your suit.” 

Peter gapes at him, struck silent at the shock. Tony’s actually taking it away, just like that. Peter had thought they were past this! He’s an adult now, out of high school and on his way to college!

Tony stands, pulling down his suit sleeves and putting his hands in his pockets, “Now, Peter.”

The stern tone pulls Peter out of his shock and he jumps up, “You can’t be serious!”

“I absolutely am. Please go get me the suit,” The anger has faded from Tony’s face and now he just looks serious and a little sad. 

Peter just looks at him for a moment, stymied. But the implacable look on the other man’s face finally has him turning toward his room, depression pulling his shoulders down as he walks. 

Once in his room he turns toward the closet, reaching up to the top shelf. Pulling down his suit, he stares down at the puddle of blue and red in his hands, frustrated. This isn’t fair! He hasn’t done anything wrong. He’s not a child anymore, Mr. Stark shouldn’t dictate who he spends time with!

He clenches his hands around the suit angrily as he slams the closet door closed. His feet drag as he heads back out to the other room and all of his words are gone as he holds the suit out to the other man, his face as still and closed down as he can make it. 

Tony sighs as he reaches out to take it, “This is for your own good, kid. You’ll get this back when I see that you can be more responsible.”

Peter stares stonily at Mr. Stark as he waits in vain for a reply. Tony shakes his head sadly, “All right, if it’s going to be like that. I’ll see you around, kid.”

Peter continues to watch silently as Tony walks away. He stares out into the empty hallways long after the other man leaves, mind echoingly empty. He finally shakes himself and moves to  shut the front door behind him. His jaw aches from clenching down for so long, but he’s worried about what sound might escape him when he finally opens his mouth.

He bites his lip instead. His lungs are rattling around but, surprisingly, his eyes are dry.

The couch makes a sad noise when he drops down into it. The kitchen clock ticks noisily from its place atop the counters. Outside the apartment, some neighbors are arguing over moving boxes. Everything around Peter is heavy, too heavy to lift. He lays down in hopes that it’ll relieve the pressure but nothing changes. Everything still feels like too much. 

Peter spends who knows how long staring up at the ceiling. He doesn’t know how to move from his spot. He tries to conjure up that earlier courage when he was sure that he would rather go back to his old pieced together suit than give up Spiderman, but he just did it. He just stood there and watched his suit go out the door and now he feels lost, as though Mr. Stark took Spiderman out the door with him. 

If MJ were here, he thought, she would tell him to get up off his ass and actually do something if he were so worried about it. Peter pulls himself off the couch, moving slowly but calmly, back to his room.

Standing in the doorway he looks around the cluttered mess which dominates his desk, his bed, and… the floor. So, everywhere basically.

MJ was right. He is such a freaking slob. Peter sighs, wanting to slump back down to the ground already. He shakes his head and moves to his bed where his phone lies face up. He scrolls through his texts with MJ for a minute. Most of them are confirmations of her coming over or sending each other ridiculous memes. 

He wants to call her so badly but he’s just as sure it would end terribly. 

She has enough going on without Peter bothering her with his own troubles, never mind that she certainly wouldn’t want to talk to him after last night.

Peter slaps his knees suddenly, dropping his phone to the ground and then yanking the sheets off the bottom bunk. He puts it all into the basket then hauls it back into the laundry room where his clothes had been sitting overnight. Once he’s moved the washed clothes and tossed in the old sheets he comes back into his room feeling grimly determined. 

Each task feels a bit harder. Almost everything he cleans reveals another mess underneath. He trashes his random papers from highschool, tucking away paperwork into his desk. He finds socks hidden under his dresser and another laundry stash of jeans he’d been rotating through for the past month. Peter groans as he puts in another load of laundry, but he does it all the same.

After all that, he’s facing an enormous pile of clean clothes on his freshly vacuumed floor. He tries his hardest to just do it the same way he’d started, but only ends up kicking it around into separate piles. He walks around it a bit as if a different angle might help.

Becoming frustrated at his own inability to do the  _ simplest  _ tasks, he flops down in the middle of his laundry piles, contemplating the inside of his eyelids. As if some divine force had heard his pleas, a text alert sends him flying over to the bed.

 

**_6:35 pm_ ** **Wade**

_ Wht _ 🍽️  _ do u think tacos or pancs  _

**_6:36 pm_ ** **Peter**

_ What is pancs? _

**_6:36 pm_ ** **Wade**

_ Pancakes! _

_ Ok decided. Pancs for  _ 🍽️ 

**_6:38 pm_ ** **Peter**

_ Want some company? _

**_6:40 pm_ ** **Wade**

_ Urs? Always  _ 😘

  
  



	14. Bill and Ted’s Excellent Dick, Part II

Peter stands in front of Wade’s door, bags in hand, feeling inexplicably weirded out. He’s running away from home to stay with his much older boyfriend who lives in a sparsely occupied penthouse. He would’ve had to take two buses to get here, but the second Peter had asked, Wade had sent a taxicab driven by someone who apparently knew, and was already paid by, Wade.

The building isn’t upscale or fancy. In fact, it looks near abandoned from the outside. The inside is spacious with just a few employees who seemed to not even notice him walk across the lobby to the elevators.

He shuffles uncomfortably for another few seconds before there’s a big racket inside and the door is yanked open.

“Petey, baby!” Wade must have been waiting right on the other side of the door waiting for him, to be able to get to it so fast. He’s beaming at Peter through his mask, the rest of him covered in sweatpants and a hoodie big enough to drown Peter in. 

Peter smiles back with all the ease he can muster. Not having his suit still feels like a limb missing, but Wade is notorious for growing back limbs. Peter just really wants Wade to make him feel better.

“Thank you for letting me stay,” he scrubs the back of his head, “I know this was kinda sudden, I’m sorry.”

Wade waves him off and motions for him to drop his bags, “Mi casa es su casa! It’s not like I’m doing any jobs soon anyways.”

Peter tries not to feel a surge of vindication at those words, but he can’t help the anger that surges again toward Mr. Stark. Knowing that he can’t do anything about it is the most frustrating part.

Wade is turning around to show him the living room when Peter suddenly blurts, “Not even out of town?”

Wade twists around and taps his chin, “Hmm, nope! Just hanging around here waiting on you, baby boy.”

Another smile is hidden behind his mask. Peter takes in the sight of a slightly beaten but comfy looking leather couch, a huge TV dominating the living space, and the stacks of clutter throughout the room. In truth, it’s not half as bad as Peter’s own room, but there’s also a closet with a suspiciously cracked open door, as if it can’t close.

“I, uh, may have done some cleaning up before you arrived.”

“You know what would make this a lot more comfortable?” Peter starts, waiting until he sees an eyebrow lift in response, “Your face.”

Wade giggles like a little girl and Peter just wants to kiss him until he does it some more. When he reaches back to take off the mask, he’s still hesitant. 

“Not that I don’t love your company, but is there a reason you decided to come over?” Wade asks.

Peter decides to go for a half-truth, he’s good at those, “I got into a fight with a friend. Just, you know, drama. It’s not that big of a deal but she comes over often so I decided to stay out of her way for now.”

Peter gives a silent breath of relief. Wade is incredibly perceptive sometimes, making talking to him like stepping into a minefield. 

Wade spins around, heading for his kitchen, “Well, I hope you’re hungry! I made enough pancakes to feed a small army. Or, you know, two supers.” 

Food sounds like the perfect solution to his problems. The kitchen reveals that Wade was in no way exaggerating when he said an army. There’s almost ten plates of pancakes stacked higher than Peter’s head on the counters. 

“Wade… did you make these all for the two of us?” Peter asks, feeling daunted.

Wade is already flipping sizable portions onto two plates, “Yeah, of course! I wanted to make sure we had enough food for our little stay in. I was thinking we could even wrap some up for patrol.”

Peter recovers from his wince pretty fast and nods a little too enthusiastically, “Yeah, yeah, yeah, that’s cool. Uh, they will be.. Cool.”

Wade stares at him from his seat, then bursts into giggles. He takes a big slice of pancake off with a hunting knife and gestures for Peter to sit with him. Peter vows to stuff his face until he can’t speak anymore.

But, despite that silent vow, neither of them can stay quiet for too long. He and Wade dive into in-depth conversations about inane thoughts with ease. Peter relaxes a bit more into his seat as Wade begins to rant about a new movie he hates, while also talking about this really cool popcorn lady at the theater.

Peter picks at his fourth plate, tempted by the syrupy maple goodness.

When Wade finishes his story with an impression of the popcorn lady’s thoughts on the movie, Peter rests his head on his hand and smiles, “You make the best pancakes, Wade.”

Peter is even more pleased when a happy blush reddens Wade’s scars. He tries to wave the words off, “It’s the true Canadian maple syrup that turns these into perfection, baby!”

The whole night has been amazing. It feels like he’s on patrol, in Wade’s company, without the constant worrying about crime. It’s exactly what he needed.

Peter convinces Wade to let him help with the dishes, and chatters away while Wade complains about having to be an adult. He secretly wonders if this is the meaning of domestic bliss. Zoning out a little on the task and the sound of Wade’s voice, he’s startled when he catches something Wade says off-hand.

“Woah, wait. What did you just say?” Peter puts his wet hand on Wade’s shoulder to stop him.

“Hm? I was saying when we go on patrol, I found this building, quite a ways from here, that buzzed my Deadpool sense, if you know what I mean… and what I mean is-”

“Yeah, no, I got that,” Peter is making Wade’s sleeve soggy with water as he grips him, “I was actually thinking that tonight we could, uh, stay in?”

Wade sets the plates he was drying down with an incredulous look at Peter, “You? Want to stay in with me? Instead of swinging around New York?”

He reaches forward and places the back of his wrist against Peter’s forehead. Peter scowls and pushes his hand aside. “Yes, I’m fine. Just- You know, you’re my boyfriend and I want to spend time with you outside of patrol! There’s nothing wrong with that!”

Wade doesn’t look like he believes Peter fully, but nods anyway, “Alright, we can stay in tonight.” 

The ping of an incoming text message sounds from Peter’s pocket, but he ignores it. Wade glances at him and Peter just smiles, leaning in to offer a small kiss. 

Wade accepts, smiling into it. He runs a hand down Peter’s shoulder, “Are you sure you don’t want to patrol? I won’t be mad if you want to go out for a few hours.” 

Peter huffs and pulls his shoulder away from Wade’s grasp, “No, I want to say here, seriously.” 

“Really, Pete, it’s just weird that you don’t want to go out.” 

He decides to do the one thing that renders Wade speechless. Without his mask, Wade’s expressions are an open book. Peter can see the surprise when he leans too close for casual contact. It’s a bit frustrating that Peter is already shaking with buzzing nervousness. He pushes through to run a finger up Wade’s arm, stopping to squeeze his deltoid. 

Wade’s eyes pop in delight and Peter knows there’s a sleazy comment coming before he even opens his mouth.

“You did mention something about a size kink, baby boy. How do you like  _ these  _ guns, huh?” He sticks out his arm and flexes.

“Hm,” Peter puts a finger to his chin and gives Wade a sceptical gaze, “Well I don’t know. I think you’re just hiding a bunch of padding under there!”

Wade squawks loudly as he pulls back, mouth open wide in exaggerated horror, “I’ll have you know that I’m one hundred percent real canadian beef!” He turns away and mutters, most likely to the boxes, “More like the scraps, though.”

“Hey, now!” Peter exclaims. “Don’t talk about yourself like that. I happen to think you look quite appetizing.”

Peter wants to hide his face as he feels it light up, but forces himself to keep eye contact as his hand continues its journey. He grabs Wade’s shoulders and pulls himself up on his toes. He’s made a lot of embarrassing noises over the phone so this shouldn’t even be that hard.

Wade stays still as Peter leans in again, making a low rumbling sound. His hands wrap around Peter’s waist, tugging him close. His eyes are half closed as he tilts his head down to see Peter. 

“You’re irresistible, baby boy. Did you know that?” Wade’s voice is rough as he asks. 

Peter can’t stand the earnest eyes looking back at him, so he tucks his head into Wade’s chest as he says, “Does that mean if I ask you to take your shirt off, you will?”

Wade’s whole body shakes with laughter and Peter presses flush to enjoy the sensation. A thumb slides under his cheekbones and lifts him out of his cozy hiding spot.

“I don’t want to step over any boundaries, Pete.”

A solid hardness presses into Peter’s pants leg and he feels stupid, face burning and moving away from the very thing he started, but he backs off in hopes that Wade won’t feel his own boner quickly growing.

“Could we, maybe…” it’s a silly request, expecting Wade to hold back for no reason that he knew of, “Keep pants on?”

“Of course!” Wade’s enthusiasm startles Peter, “You still okay with me taking my shirt off?”

“Oh! Yeah, yeah, please do. I mean, if you want to, that is. I want, uh, that.”

Wade’s grin tells Peter he’s enjoying every second of this, “This?” He motions up and down his torso.

Scowling, Peter stomps off into the living room, Wade’s giggles following him the whole way. A smile finds its way onto Peter’s face despite himself. He wanted Wade’s laughter and he certainly got it.

Standing in the center of the living room, Peter pulls out his phone to see who texted him. The silence from the kitchen makes him glance up before he gets the chance, and in the door jamb, Wade is posing with one arm up. 

“You can’t even help it, can you, being that gorgeous?” The words are softer than he anticipated, and Peter realizes it’s because Wade is looking at him with a rose tinted gaze.

“Don’t look at me like that!” Peter straightens up, gripping his phone tightly.

“Like what?” 

Wade is inching closer and every step makes Peter tighten up like he’s expecting to be attacked, but his lower abdomen pools with warmth. 

He steps backwards, towards the couch, creating a little space. Wade follows closely, matching his every step. When Peter sits down, Wade sits on his lap, muscular legs trapping him into the couch. 

“Little minx, that’s what you are, Petey.” The larger man smirks, leaning in to brush his lips over Peter’s ear. The sensation causes him to gulp, and his hands rest on Wade’s hips. 

Getting an idea, he smirks, then flips Wade around, pressing him down into the cushions. The motion elicits a gasp from Wade. Peter grins at him, leaning over to set his phone on the coffee table. The motion has Peter shoving his hips forward a little, brushing up against the tent in Wade’s pants. 

“Oh, I’m a minx? What does that make you?” He leans down to bite Wade’s lip, although he stops short. 

“A unicorn, probably,” Wade smiles, wrapping his legs around Peter’s waist, successfully grinding their dicks together. 

Peter crushes his lips to Wade’s, moaning, “Mmm.” 

Wade grins behind the kiss then pulls away to move his lips down Peter’s neck. His teeth graze Peter’s jugular, biting down gently and sucking a mark. 

“Come back here,” Peter rolls his hips and chases Wade. Their lips join for a second before Peter sinks his teeth into the skin under the larger man’s jaw, punching a deep grunt from Wade. 

He winds his fingers into Peter’s hair and tugs lightly, “So only you get to bite? I see how it is,” His voice is deep with arousal.

The rumbling seems to vibrate through Peter and he shivers with sudden zealousness. He wants that shirt off, now. He tugs and lifts from the bottom, unable to resist immediately running his hands over Wade’s skin.

Wade quickly gets the idea, and nearly rips the shirt off of his shoulders. Peter hums, “Hmm, so muscular,” he licks his lips while his fingers brush over Wade’s pecs. 

Wade huffs, and pulls Peter’s face back to his own, pulling their lips together again. Peter’s hands still, his fingers over Wade’s left nipple. 

The skin is hard and pebbled, and when he brushes over it slowly, Wade murmurs a noise of assent as he’s traveling down Peter’s neck. The bumpy texture evolves across his chest. It’s all edges in one spot and smooth tissue in the next. Peter lifts his other hand up to flick Wade’s right nipple.

He wants nothing more than to look down and feast on the sight of Wade’s constantly shifting skin, but he knows that Wade would get self conscious again. To resist temptation, Peter returns to Wade’s mouth, letting his hands do the feasting. He lets Wade lean him back so his hands can claw their way around Wade’s back. 

A sharp noise from the coffee table cuts through the room like a gunshot, and Peter jumps, dumping Wade onto the couch as his instincts send him flying. His arms are behind him holding on, and he clings with his back to the ceiling above Wade, “What the hell,” he gasps. 

“Holy shit, Petey, you’re on the ceiling!” Wade snorts, throwing his head back against the arm of the couch with a breathless laugh, “It’s just your phone.” 

Peter heaves in a heavy breath, and takes a minute to relax. Wade just stares at him from the couch. 

His phone buzzes again, and he finally lets himself down from the ceiling, one hand clinging for a second before dropping all the way down, to check it. 

**_7:39 pm_ ** **May**

_ Hey Peter, haven’t seen you, want to make sure everything is okay. Love May  _

**_10:16 pm_ ** **May**

_ Peter answer me  _

_ I need to know you’re okay _

_ Please don’t be dead in some alley _

**_10:18 pm_ ** **Peter**

_ I’m okay _

_ I’m at a friends.  _

_ I had a fight with Mr. Stark, just needed some time away _

**_10:19 pm_ ** **May**

_ What do you want for breakfast tomorrow morning? _

 

Peter huffs out a small laugh, causing Wade to lift his head curiously. Peter shakes his head and smiles. Aunt May is rarely ever still at home by the time he wakes up in the mornings. If she is, she makes herself a bagel or some ready made item. 

 

**_10:20 pm_ ** **Peter**

_ Scrambled eggs with sausage. _

**_10:21 pm_ ** **May**

_ Don’t scare me like that, young man! Going to give me a heart attack one day, I swear. Stay safe for me alright? I don’t want to wake up the next morning with you on the news. Goodnight and I love you. _

**_10:21 pm_ ** **Peter**

_ Yes ma’am. I’m staying inside, don’t worry. I love you too _

 

“A code?” Wade has been peering over his shoulder, watching the back and forth with a small smile.

“She demanded it the second she figured out I’m Spiderman.” Peter sighs fondly, “She’s a pain in the butt sometimes.”

Wade gasps dramatically, “Did she teach you to use that language too, young man?”

Peter bites his cheek, trying to control his grin, “No, you did.”

“I’m not going to end with a S.W.A.T team at my place, right? Cause I’ve got guns to hide in that case.”

“No, scrambled eggs with sausage just means that I’m safe and unharmed.”

Standing up, he stretches his arms and legs out of their cramped position, then moves over to his bag. He’d just tossed in necessities really, not even many clothes. It’s a bit nerve wracking to think about rationing out his outfits, but no, no, he wouldn’t be that long.

A sudden thought hits him. He’d asked Wade if he could come over, but he hadn’t thought about sleeping arrangements.

“Hey Wade?” Peter turns back to see Wade with his legs sprawled over Peter’s spot on the couch, “Do you mind if I stay the night?”

Wade freezes up, eyes flicking back and forth between Peter’s in silence.

“I can take the couch, of course! And I have everything I need, except a place to sleep.” Peter quickly rushes to assure him.

“What? No!” Wade bursts out.

Disappointment sinks into Peter’s chest, “Oh, of course, I’m sorry. I’ve been bothering you for the whole night. I shouldn’t have assumed.”

Wade flails his arms wildly, nearly hitting Peter in the face, “No no, Pete, you can take my bed! I- I want you to stay.” And after a second, he adds, “Come over here, sit on daddy’s lap.” 

“Yeah, I can stay?” Peter chooses to ignore the name, and pads over to him, a small smile on his face. He sits directly in Wade’s lap, legs crossed.

“Hell yeah, sugar baby! I can make pancakes in the morning and we can play video games or something! I’ll take the couch, you can take my bed.” Wade grins back at Peter, and places a soft kiss on his forehead. 

Wade must have some crazy super powers, because the second he’s kissed, a warm sleepiness suffuses through Peter. It had been an exhausting day, despite not moving around much at all.

Peter begins to yawn, and covers his mouth, “You ready to sleep now, or?” 

“Yeah, baby boy, we can sleep now.” Peter leans his head down on Wade’s chest and Wade sighs, “Not here though, I’ve got to get my bed ready for you.” 

“But… We could lay here for a minute?” Peter’s lips graze across his skin. 

“Fine, a minute.” He secures his arms around Peter’s torso, large hands placing themselves right under the smaller man’s armpits. 

Peter closes his eyes and enjoys the quiet, letting himself drift. 

“Pete,” Wade shakes Peter a little, startling him out of his half asleep doze, “Petey, you’ve gotta get to bed.” 

Peter hums, burrowing into Wade’s chest, not wanting to move. Wade sits up slightly, putting his arms under Peter’s butt for support, then he stands up. 

He can only feel the movement of walking, unable to open his eyes for even a second.  A pillowy surface hugs Peter in exchange for Wade’s much warmer arms, “Hmm, Wade?” Peter stirs a little, the feeling of the soft bed under him startling him enough to reach out to the other man. 

“Hey, baby boy, you fell asleep pretty quickly, I took you to bed,” Wade brushes some hair off of his forehead and leans down to kiss him, “Get some sleep, okay?” 

“Mmm,” Then Peter turns onto his side, away from Wade, and snuggles into the pillow. He vaguely hears footsteps walking away and he drifts awhile. But the cold lack of skin next to his slowly pulls him out of his haze. Wade must have gone back to the other room to sleep. 

“Wade, you still awake?” Peter whisper-yells.

 “Yeah, what’s wrong, baby?” Wade’s quiet voice drifts in to him through the open doorway.  

“Can you come in here?” He’s quiet, embarrassed, but he’s glad when Wade’s shadow falls into the room.

“Yeah, Pete?” 

“Could you come in here, with me? It’s just- I’m cold and I can’t seem to get warm. You’re like a furnace, so,” he trails off as Wade grins at him, moving to join him in the bed. 

“Sure, baby boy. Scoot over, would ya?” Peter shuffles to the left side of the bed, then pulls back the covers. 

He gets in, and pulls the smaller man close, “This okay?” 

Peter nods, kissing Wade’s chest, “Yeah, this is perfect. Thank you.” 

Peter rubs his cheek against Wade’s still bare chest, snuggling close and letting his eyes drift closed again. Wade’s heartbeat lulls him quickly back down to sleep.


	15. Bill and Ted’s Excellent Dick, Part III

Peter pads out of Wade’s bedroom, yawning as he makes his way toward where Wade is making pancakes in the kitchen. With only Peter around, he’s comfortable enough leaving his mask off and wearing a pair of sleep pants and a white tee. 

“Movie or game, baby boy?” He turns his head to look at Peter behind him, “I have pancakes, they’re almost ready. Go sit down, sugar baby.” 

“Uhm, how about Smash Bros first?” He tilts his head to the side while looking up at Wade. His nose crinkles with a little smile and he tiptoes over to Wade and leans up for a kiss. 

**{What is with the face, he’s a literal puppy!}**

_ {Oh my shit on a shingle, I wonder if he’ll look at us like that when we fuck him.} _

Wade leans into it for a second before pulling away, “Mmm, we can do whatever you want if you keep making that face.” Turning back to the counter, he starts piling the finished pancakes onto plates and carries them over to the table, “Come on, Pete.” 

Peter sits at the table and grabs the smaller stack, but stops short when Wade lightly grips his wrist. “No no, the bigger one is for you. A growing spider needs his nutrition.” 

Peter blushes, “I’m not that young, Wade.” He grips the other plate and pulls it close. 

Wade bends down to place a soft kiss on his temple, “Just let me take care of you, baby boy.” 

After breakfast, both men plop down on the couch and start up Super Smash Bros. 

_ {Tell him that we’ll play with his ass when we win.} _

“Yellow says that if we win, we get to play with your ass.” 

**{The poor readers, having to read things twice because of the fourth wall.}**

Peter snorts, “Good to know that your flirting hasn’t changed now that we’re dating.” 

“Never!” Wade feigns offence while pressing the menu button. They choose their characters; Wade picks pikachu and Peter picks Icarus.

The boxes distract Wade from the game, as always, causing him to fall behind a few times. Near the end of the round, though, he thinks he’s got Peter locked in a corner. 

_ {Yes, yes, yes! Pile drive his ass into space!}  _

**{Or just pile drive his ass... }**

White’s suggestion causes Wade to stumble on his button mashing. Peter escapes his near death and blasts Pikachu off of the screen. 

“Looks like I’m blasting off again,” Wade smirks. “What the hell, though! You have cat-like reflexes, I  _ swear  _ I had you in a corner!” 

“Spider-like,” Peter corrects, eyes shining with happiness. 

**{Way to go, you fucked up.}**

_ {No, you fucked up. You were too busy swooning over Peter to even make a proper pun.}  _

**{Pay attention, dick for brains! Peter is telling you something!}**

“Huh-no, I know what he said, White. He’s part  _ spider!  _ Not part cat, you no limbed fuckface.” 

**{You’re the one with the fucked up mug.}**

Wade must make a distressed face, because Peter puts his controller down and grabs Wade’s face in his hands. “Are they yelling at you again?” 

“And each other,” Wade’s face drops, but Peter picks it back up.

“Leave Wade alone, he’s trying his best. Be nice to him or I’ll never let any of you see my ass.” 

_ {He wouldn’t dare!}  _

**{Yes he would, we know this.}**

_ {Tell him we’ll be good! Tell him we’ll call him sir and follow his every wish and suck his dick whenever he’s bored! Anything to see that pretty ass!}  _

Wade flinches, the volume of the boxes jarring. “They don’t like that threat; said they’ll be nice.” 

“Good,” Peter leans forward to place a soft kiss on Wade’s lips, “Now, we’re going to watch Star Wars and tomorrow I'll kick your ass at this game again.” 

That cheers Wade up. “Oh! Which one?”

“We’re finishing the original three, then moving forward. The prequel sucks anyways.” 

Wade sighs happily, wrapping an arm around Peter to pull him close. 

“You were sent from heaven, weren’t you? You know the prequel sucks, you like tacos, and you do this cute little snore when you sleep!” 

**{It was more annoying than cute.}**

_ {No, he’s like a little puppy!}  _

“I snore?” Peter tilts his head up, questioning. 

“It’s cute, I promise!” Wade raises his right hand, “Scout’s honor!” 

“You’re Canadian, do you even have scouts?” 

He gasps, “Of course! You yankees may have founded it, but we’re the real nature boys!” 

**{What does he mean, do we have scouts? Canada is pretty much all forest! What does he think the Mounties are?}**

_ {Shh, don’t tell the Americans they’re not the greatest at something, they’re trigger happy.}  _

Wade snorts involuntarily, then covers his mouth with a hand. 

“What’s up?” 

“Nothing,” He waves, “Yellow’s just being offensive towards Americans, normal stuff. How about that movie, sugar baby?” 

Peter smiles, “Yeah, I’m ready.”

Wade jumps up, heading over to his movie collection piled haphazardly next to his television. 

_ {Huh, I don’t think we’ve watched Star Wars in a while.}  _

Wade knocks the stack sideways and what do you know, Yellow was right! The first original Star Wars is at the bottom of the stack. 

“Hah! Here it is!” He takes it over to his game system, quickly getting his dvd player switched out. He heads back to Peter, sitting close and throwing his arm over the back of the couch. Peter smiles at him and cuddles close. 

_ {Wait! Food! I’m so hungry, it’s been hours and hours and hours since we ate anything!}  _

**{The authors have a terrible grasp of time.}**

Wade startles upright with a gasp, “Petey! You should have told me we didn’t have lunch or dinner!”

“Oh!” Peter looks startled. “I guess I kind of forgot about it. We were playing Super Smash Bros for a long time, weren’t we?”

“Pft, I’ve wasted entire weeks playing that game! What’s six hours of a day compared to that?”

“What were you thinking we could eat?”

“Delivery! Any preferences, sweetie Petey? Thai, Chinese, pizza, hmm… I could probably get some Mexican delivered, too.”

“How about Thai? I haven’t had that in a long time.”

Wade digs his phone out of his pocket, swiping to his food delivery app. “Should I just double my usual order or do you want something specific?

“Whatever you get should be fine,” Peter shrugs. 

“Alrighty, Tom Kha Kai? It’s chicken in coconut soup. Oh, and maybe some curry and pork! Don’t worry, I’ll treat you so nice, baby boy!” Wade quickly starts typing out his order on his phone. 

Peter gets up to start the movie, expecting Wade to be done in just a minute. Turning back to the couch, he finds Wade still typing on his phone, “How much food are you ordering?” 

Wade waves him off, “Don’t worry about it, Petey, I’ll take care of you.”

When he finishes ordering, Wade starfishes out on the couch, throwing a leg over Peter’s.  

Peter throws a smile at him, “We ready to start the movie?”

“Nope! We’re good, phone says it should take an hour. I love that we’re doing this, taking a few hours away from patrolling to spend time together.” 

Peter tenses, “Yeah, I like this. Figured it was time to spend some alone time together.” 

_ {Why is he so tense? Is he grossed out by our face finally?} _

**{Maybe he’s cold?}**

“You okay, baby? Cold?” Wade leans a little closer, ready to wrap an arm around Peter. 

He shivers after a second, “Yeah, a little.” 

**{Why did he only shiver after we asked if he was cold? Is he hiding something?}**

_ {No no, he’s probably just hungry. We’re starving, after all!} _

Wade scoots over so he’s right next to the smaller man and settles in, hitting the button to start the movie. But it’s hard to concentrate with Peter’s warm weight settled against him. 

_ {Put your arm around him.} _

For once, Yellow has a good suggestion. Trying to be stealthy, Wade stretches out and yawns, slowly letting his arm settle around Peter’s shoulders instead of on the back of the couch. 

_ {Pull him closer!}  _

**{You know, maybe he actually wants to watch the movie?}**

_ {Why would he want to do that? I thought we were Netflix and Chilling?!} _

**{This is a dvd.}**

_ {Semantics!! Come on, pull him closer so we can get to the sexing!}  _

That’s finally too much for Wade to keep quiet about and he hisses, “Shut up, already, we’re trying to watch a movie!”

“Wade?”

Startled, Wade’s eyes jump away from Yellow’s box hanging beside the tv and glances down at Peter’s eyes shining up at him from his shoulder, “What’s up, baby boy?”

“Is everything okay?”

Wade flaps his free hand, “Yeah, yeah, Yellow just won’t shut his trap. Sorry, cuddle time and Star Wars!” 

Peter’s gaze turns sly. “You know… we could do a little more than just cuddling?”

_ {Hah! Yes, sexing time!}  _

**{Just… I don’t think this is a good time. Haven’t you noticed? Something is going on with him.}**

Peter interrupts before Wade can really think of what to say to White, pressing his hand against Wade’s shoulder and flipping himself around to straddle his lap. 

Wade is shocked still for a moment before he smiles, “What’s up, baby?” 

Peter leans forwards and plants his lips on Wade’s. Wade grunts and rests his hands on Peter’s hips. He squeezes lightly, opening his mouth to run his tongue over Peter’s lips. 

The smaller man gasps, opening his mouth just enough for Wade to get his tongue in. 

It’s obvious that Peter doesn’t know what he’s doing, as his tongue just stays stagnant in his mouth. 

_ {Kind of like the writer here, they’ve obviously got no idea what’s happening right now.} _

Wade pulls away, “Follow my lead, baby boy.” Then he drags Peter’s hips forward against himself. The motion makes Peter squeak. 

They continue kissing, Wade coaxing Peter’s tongue out of his mouth and into Wade’s. He seems to get into it for a second, then pulls it back into his mouth. 

Peter fiddles with the bottom of Wade’ shirt as he shifts away, not meeting his eyes.

**{You really can’t keep your tongue to yourself for a second, can you?}**

Before Wade can apologize, Peter looks up at him through his lashes.

“Mm, I don’t think I like tongues while kissing?” He questions, tilting his head a little to the left. “It feels… weird.”

“That’s fine, I can use my tongue in all sorts of other ways, baby doll,” Wade smirks at him, relieved that’s the only problem.  

He moves down, sucking a line down Peter’s neck and the smaller man leans his head back to make more room for Wade. As soon as he finds the right spot, the one right above Peter’s collarbone, in between the muscles, Wade bites lightly. 

Peter whimpers at the sensation, canting his hips slightly. “Sh- I, I like it when you do that though. Feel free to do that some more.” 

The sound of someone dying in the background causes Wade to pull away and look at the screen. 

“Hm, hey! Keep doing that!” Peter whines. 

_ {Idiot, he’s starting to come apart in your lap and you’re pulling away? What the hell is wrong with your priorities!}  _

“Sorry, I need to know who died.” It was just a clone trooper, “Okay, it wasn’t important, back to our regularly scheduled programming!” 

He places his mouth back onto the spot above Peter’s collarbone and sucks hard. 

Peter’s right hand grips Wade’s arm tightly and he grunts, tipping his head back to give the other man better access. 

“Nng, fuck, Wade,” Peter writhes on his lap, pressing a noticeable hard on against Wade’s. 

Wade jerks back a little, lifting his head, “Oh, wait. You said you weren’t ready.”

Peter’s eyes are almost all pupil as he brings his head down to look at Wade, “It feels good.”

When he leans forward for another kiss, Wade turns his head away, “No, really, wait, Peter.”

Peter lets himself be pushed back to sit on Wade’s knees, pouting, “But I am! Right now, I’m ready.” 

“Not like this. You said we weren’t going to go further and I’m  _ trying  _ to keep that promise.”

Peter halts, guilt twisting his face. He climbs off of Wade and stands next to the couch.

“I’m sorry,” Peter mumbles, “I shouldn’t have. It’s just that you make me feel so good and it’s been a rough few days and I… huh, I messed things up again.”

Peter sits back down on the couch with a heavy thump. He doesn’t appear watery eyed, only lost. Wade scoots a little closer, but remains firmly on his own separate cushion.

“Pete?” Wade pokes him in the side and gets no response, “It’s really okay, baby boy. I get it. We got swept away. You wanted to forget about whatever it is you want to forget about.”

He quickly stops when he sees Peter’s face crumple in.

“Uh, guys? Help?” Wade helplessly looks to the side, for once desperate for the boxes to butt in. 

_ {He’s saying yes! Come on, just go with it! I miss real sex so much...} _

**{We all know that’s not what he needs right now. Get your brain out of our dick.}**

A sharp knock at the door has both of them jumping, Peter’s eyes coming up and focusing on the door.

Wade leaps up, hurrying toward the door, “I’ve got it!”

He throws open the door and the delivery driver jumps back, startled. 

“Yes! Food, thanks!” Wade reaches out, waiting for the driver to hand the 6 bags of food over. But the man is too busy gaping at him to notice the gesture. 

**{You forgot to put your mask back on.}**

_ {Your grossness broke his brain.} _

Wade snaps his fingers in the guys face and smirks when he jumps, “You gonna hand it over?”

The guy blinks at him, slowly holding the bags out, “Uh, yeah…”

As Wade grabs the bags and turns away, starting to shut the door, the man finally snaps out of his disorientation. He reaches out as though to stop the door, “No, wait! Hey, man… I think you messed up in the tip field? It was a, uh, hundred percent tip?”

Wade flaps one of the bundles of bags at him, “Nah, that was right! Have a good night.”

He swings the door shut on the man’s gaping shock and heads back to where Peter is staring vaguely, eyes unmoving, at the TV.

Setting his two handfuls of bags onto the coffee table, he lets himself fall back onto the couch. He rifles through one of the bags, pulling out every option for curry and noodle dinners, holding Peter’s out in front of his face. That seems to startle him out of his apathetic staring.

Peter focuses in on the box, reaching out to grab it. He freezes, though, as his eyes track over the coffee table, seeing the assortment laid out. “What the heck?”

“What?”

“Were you planning on feeding an army?”

“You said you would eat whatever. I just doubled my usual order.”

“This is a lot of food, Wade,” Peter still hasn’t stopped gaping for long enough to open his food and start eating, though Wade is already halfway through his first box. 

“I’m not worried. Eat as much as you want and I’ll eat the rest, baby!” He rubs at his stomach, “This is a bottomless pit, I can eat enough for ten people, usually. The benefits of a hyperactive metabolism!”

Peter cuts a glance at Wade, but that answer seems to be enough for him. With Peter slowly relaxing, Wade lets himself relax, too. He opens his food and starts eating, leaning back and fully focusing on the movie.

Somewhere near the middle of the third movie, his eyes start to droop. He closes them one last time and the next time he opens them, he sees the credits rolling, “Shit, sorry Pete, I fell asleep.” Turning, he sees Peter asleep on his shoulder. 

_ {Isn’t that just the cutest!}  _

**{Wrap him up and cuddle him, he needs sleep.}**

_ {Yeah, don’t wake him up!}  _

“Peter, come on, Pete, time for bed,” he shakes Peter lightly. 

“Hmm?” He hums, still half asleep. 

“Come on, time for bed spider-babe. You’re taking my bed, I’ll take the couch this time.” 

Peter wraps himself around Wade’s torso, “No, come to bed with me.” 

“Pete-”

Fully awake now, he sits up and looks at Wade, pleading, “Nothing’ll happen, last night was fine, we were good! I just want to sleep next to you, please?” 

_ {Aww, look at that pitiful puppy face! Say yes!} _

**{I agree with Yellow, for once.}**

“Okay, fine. Come up, little spider.” Wade lifts Peter with him when he stands, holding him bridal-style. They pad to the bedroom, where Wade sets him down on top of the bed lightly. Joining him, Wade pulls the blanket over both of them and curls around Peter. 


	16. This Dick is Headed Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here we have some angst again! Please heed the new tags/warnings we have added. There is definitely some heaviness ahead. But! We are finally on the slide towards this fic being finished. 
> 
> Apologies for the late posting of this chapter but most likely chapters will slow to only once a week from here on out. We have probably only 6 or 7 chapters left, though and most of it is written! Things in our (the authors and our beta) lives have gotten busy though, so we just don't have as much time to get this edited and ready for posting.

“Are you ever going to tell me why you’re really hiding here with me?” Wade leans on his hand watching Peter inhale his third stack of pancakes. 

The question has Peter freezing halfway to his mouth with another bite of syrupy pancake. He blinks over at Wade, clicking the fork back down to the plate. “I’m not hiding.”

“You said there was some stuff that happened?”

“Well, yeah,” Peter waffled, hand waggling in a so-so gesture. “But it wasn’t that big a deal. I just had a fight with one of my friends and wanted to get away.” 

“That’s it?”

**{That can’t be all. Would he really hide here this long for just a small fight with a friend?}**

“You sure that’s it, baby boy? You seemed pretty worked up for a fight that’s not a big deal,” Wade prodded.

Peter slowly drags a piece of pancake through the syrup. “It was. A big deal, I mean. But, we’ve been friends for years. She’s always looked out for me, and it isn’t her fault that all that stress caught up with her.”

He suddenly reaches up and tugs on his own locks with a sigh, “I’m-,” he pulls his hand away with a grimace, the syrup had somehow gotten on his hand, ”Nevermind. I’m just stupid sometimes, is all.”

Wade generally doesn’t know how to handle these sincere emotions, but he certainly wants to try. He leans forward and takes Peter’s slightly sticky hand in his, “Don’t be silly, baby boy! Maybe you made a mistake, but you’ll get through this. What did you even fight about?”

Peter goes visibly pale, hand clenching into a fist on Wade’s palm, “My suit.”

_ {Okay, that was weird. Anyone else feeling the change in tone?} _

“Is something wrong with your suit? You know, I got a black belt in sewing; I could patch it up!” Wade exclaims enthusiastically. He doesn’t know what has Peter so down, but he wants to help.

Peter pulls his hand back, looking even more bummed out than before, “You can’t fix it.”

**{Way to go, make him feel worse why don’t you?}**

_ {Is he doubting our master sewing skills?} _

“No way! He’s just sad about his suit,” Wade exclaims at Yellow’s comment. 

“I’m not  _ sad _ about my suit!” Peter shoves himself up hard, nearly flipping the table over with his force, “There’s nothing to be sad about because it’s gone!”

Wade holds his hands out like he’s calming a pack of raptors, “Woah, Petey, what are talking about? Did you… you don’t have to be ashamed if you lost it. Did someone tear it off you?!”

_ {Omg! He was fighting naked? When!?} _

**{Who? Where? Find out so we can teach them a lesson!}**

“No, nobody ripped it off me! He took the suit, Wade. He said that I’d get it back when I was more responsible. What the hell does that even mean, I’m an adult! He can’t take my stuff just because he doesn’t like who I’m dating!” Peter paces around the kitchen. 

“Baby boy, what are you talking about?” Wade stays stationed at the kitchen table, watching his baby panic. 

“Mr. Stark took my suit because I’m dating you and he doesn’t like it. And I would’ve just talked to MJ about it, but then I had a fight with her about stupid stuff and I- I needed to get out. I needed you, so I came here.” 

“Okay, so- wait, back up? MJ is this friend you were talking about yesterday?”

“Yeah, she’s the one I fought with that I told you about.”

“And your suit- Who took your suit, again?” Wade’s voice is laced with menace. 

_ {Who the hell does Iron Dick think he is?!}  _

Peter freezes, “Uh, Tony Stark?

“What the hell? That’s yours, he can’t just take your things!”

“Well,” Peter offers, anger derailed by Wade’s indignant question. “He’s kind of my advisor? Patron? I don’t know what to call it. I mean- he made the suit for me.”

**{What?}**

_ {But we wanted to be his Sugar Daddy!}  _

Wade gapes in astonishment. “You already have a Sugar Daddy? Why didn’t you tell me, I’ve been trying hard to apply for that job!”

Peter’s face spasms at Wade’s phrasing. “Wait, what?! No! He’s  _ definitely not  _ my Sugar Daddy. Gross, Wade.”

“Oh. Well, okay then,” Wade deflates, wind shaken from his sails. 

“Anyway,” Peter says, firmly. “So since it’s technically a Stark invention, the suit is his property. He can take it back any time he wants.”

“Well that’s just crappy,” Wade scowls. 

Peter’s mouth quirks up in a sad smile, “Yeah, it definitely is.”

“Wait!” Wade waves his arms as he jerks up straight in his chair. “Wait, wait, wait! We’re getting off track! Okay, so, the suit being taken away definitely sucks and I’m glad you don’t think of the tin can as your Sugar Daddy. But my original point was that you can’t hide here forever!”

Peter pouts at him.

“For real, baby boy. I know you have people who worry about you. What about the woman texting you last night? Your aunt?”

Peter blinks at Wade, then shakes his head, “No, she’s working all the time. Plus I told her I was okay and I would be home soon. She understands that I can’t be there right now.” 

“Okay, but Peter-”

“Wade, I don’t want to go home. Mr. Stark took Spider-Man from me.” 

“He didn’t take Spider-Man from you;  _ you _ are Spider-Man. He just took the suit. You can always get a new suit.” 

**{Now THERE’S an idea!}**

_ {Let’s make him a suit! Let’s do it!}  _

Wade shakes his head slightly, “I really think you should go home, baby boy.” 

Peter shuffles his feet, then walks in circles around the kitchen for another minute. 

Wade watches him pace, not sure what to say to help. 

**{Wait. Wait a minute.}**

_ {Huh?} _

**{What did he say about why Iron Dildo took his suit?}**

White’s question has Wade leaning forward towards Peter and asking quietly, “Peter? What did you mean by he doesn’t like who you date? That is what you said, right?”

Peter spins around, face blanching, “Uh-”

“Do you mean… He found out about us?”

“He just- I mean, we just argued!” Peter’s voice rises.

Wade throws himself to his feet, voice rising with him, “About me?”

“I mean, kinda?” Peter shuffles his feet, ready to pace another ring into the tile.

Wade waves his hands around in a vague ‘what the fuck’ expression, “How do you  _ kinda _ argue about me?”

“Okay, so- He might’ve told me that I needed to stop associating with you or he would take back the suit.”

Wade flinches back, hitting the chair behind him. There are a million things he wants to say right now, and none of them are supportive or loving, but he hates how every answer seems to be another confession designed to hurt him. 

**{I knew it.}**

He’s silent as he walks over to the sink, where he and Peter had washed dishes only two days before. He had thought it odd that Spidey didn’t want to go out, but it had been exciting to think of a night in together. A night where it would be no one except them. Only, Peter hadn’t done it to enjoy his company.

_ {Why are you so disappointed? We all knew it was gonna happen. You even said it yourself!} _

**{He may not hate your outsides, but your insides are still disgusting. It was just a matter of time before someone figured it out!}**

“Wade,” Peter inches closer, hesitantly reaching out a hand, like Wade is a stray about to bite, “I didn’t want to make you think this was your fault.”

It is. He’s getting mad at Peter, but it’s all Wade’s fault this is happening.

**{You’re the reason his suit got taken away. You’re the reason he can’t be Spider-Man anymore.}**

_ {You’re so gross, why would he even want to spend time with you anyways?}  _

**{No one could ever really love you, you know that.}**

Wade slams his hand down on the counter, making Peter jump, “Wade?” 

**{Tell him you’ll break up with him. Save him from dealing with your pathetic, disgusting ass.}**

“We should break up, maybe that’ll make Tin Man give you the suit back.” 

“Hell no! I’m not letting you do that, we’re not doing that!” 

**{You’re making his life so difficult, do the kid a favor and just end it. You don’t deserve the happiness anyways.}**

Wade presses both hands down against the counter, leaning hard and hanging his head down. Dragging a harsh breath in, he turns and looks at Peter, leaning back in feigned composure, “If I’m making things difficult for you, it’s better if we aren’t together.”

Peter gapes at him, “Wade? No! I don’t want that!”

_ {Make him go!}  _

**{You can’t even do this right?}**

Wade crosses his arms, tension rising, “I knew this was a bad idea.”

**{Yet another reason to say I told you so. I** **_knew_ ** **this would happen.}**

_ {You ruin everything.}  _

Peter reaches out for him, resting his hands on the tense muscles in Wade’s arms, kneading gently, “No, Wade. Please don’t do this. I  _ like you.  _ Mr. Stark’s opinion  _ doesn’t matter.” _

“It matters to  _ you!  _ You’re torn up about this, hiding out with me! Seriously Peter, I think you should go home. Spend some time with your aunt and make up with that friend.” 

“I’m not letting you break up with me over this. I don’t want to break up with you!” 

_ {Maybe if you shot at him, he would leave.} _

**{Better just to shoot yourself. The blood and brain matter will probably drive him away fast enough.}**

“Go home, Peter,” Wade’s voice strains for the last word, “Please.” 

“Wade-”

“Go!” Wade slams his hand on the counter again, his anger and anxiety taking over. He needs to die, he needs to blow his brains out right now. Peter can’t be here for that. Peter needs to leave.

“We’re not breaking up, Wade,” Peter’s voice is small and shaking slightly. 

“Go home, now. I just- need you to not be here right now,” he grinds out, teeth clenched and shoulders hunched. His hands are starting to shake, but he knows if he raised a gun they would be rock steady. 

“Wade, please,” Peter says, helplessly. When Wade continues to stand silently, he sighs. “Okay. Text me later, please?”

Wade doesn’t answer, eyes clenched shut now as he fights to hear and see anything past the boxes’ vitriol.

**{Of course you’re ruining this, too. You couldn’t let him down a little more gently!?}**

_ {He’s probably going to go home and sob into his pillow. You are the shittiest boyfriend. First he loses his suit because of you and now you have to stomp on his heart?} _

He heaves a harsh sob as he hears the front door shut gently. 

**{Finally! It’s been too long. You know you want to.}**

_ {Ooh, how are we gonna do it this time? Maybe you should cut off your dick first, that’s what got us into this mess.}  _

**{Might as well go for the tried and true method. Blow as much of your brains away as possible, full reset. Maybe we’ll come back an actual good person?}**

_ {HAHAHAHAHA!! A good person! HA! Oh, that’s so funny.}  _

Wade’s hand is still shaking as he leans down to open the cupboard and grab the gun taped to the underside of the counter. As he brings the gun up and slides himself down to sit on the floor, he’s pleased to notice he was right. His hand is rock steady as he brings the gun up to rest on his temple. 

**{This is all you deserve, you know. Pain, pain, and more pain. You only ever hurt people. At least this way you get some of that back.}**

_ {Ah, but this isn’t really a punishm-}  _

**_*BANG*_ **

The gun cuts Yellow off before he can finish. Blood and bits of brain spray out over the side of the counter cupboard, almost artistic in its layout. But there isn’t anyone around to see it. Peter already went home and Wade’s dead body is slowly sliding over onto the floor, half of his head now decorating the cupboards.  

~~

Peter opens the front door cautiously, setting his bag down gently against the wall. He half expected May to be waiting next to the door, already berating Peter for his stupidity. There’s only a faint sound of running water. He locks the door, lock snapping into place behind him, and steps into the kitchen.

Aunt May has a pair of sterile gloves on, scrubbing at the accumulated dishes. The steam rising from the hot water seems to heat the whole room.

“Good morning, Aunt May.” He says it a little robotically, as if he were greeting a coworker.

May whirls around, surprised, but not angry at his entrance. It’s a good sign, but he can’t let his guard down just yet.

“Peter, where are the rubber gloves? I looked all over, but couldn’t find them!” She’s already turned back to the dishes.

“Oh, they’re in the closet, lemme go get them.”

He breathes a sigh of relief once he’s out of earshot. Aunt May didn’t seem to be mad, which made him feel a lot better after the bad ending to his stay at Wade’s. He knew he couldn’t tell May anything that happened, but he can’t help wanting to confess everything so that she could give him advice. 

When he walks back into the kitchen, rubber gloves in hand, a prickle on the back of his neck alarms him. It’s not the type of tingle that happens during a fight, or even one that tells him which surfaces are sturdy enough for webs. It’s more like the feeling he gets when there’s a puddle a couple feet away. Only dangerous if he were to slip into it.

May is facing him, hand on her hip and leaning against the counter. Peter’s instincts tell him to run. He holds out the gloves like a peace offering instead. 

“Put them under the sink, please.” May says sharply, peeling off her soaked nitrile ones to toss them, “Sit.”

He does. Peter sits and waits while May starts making coffee.

“What the hell were you thinking?” May suddenly bursts out. She’s not yelling, because Aunt May does not yell, but there’s a tremble of anger that makes Peter want to shrivel up in his seat. “You can’t just disappear and not tell me where you are going or what’s going on! Did it even occur to you how scared I would be when I didn’t know where you were and couldn’t get a hold of you?”

As her words pour over him, Peter shrinks in on himself, shoulders coming up toward his ears. “I’m sorry?” He quietly offers. 

Aunt May tilts her head back as she shakes it and sighs heavily. Looking back at him, “So did you go to Ned’s?”

Peter panics, eyes going wide, “Uhm, yeah. I-” May is narrowing her eyes already, “Actually, no, it had to do with Spider-Man. I’m sorry, May, I know it wasn’t cool to just leave like that.” 

“And lying is wrong?” She lilts, hands on her hips as she eyes him. 

“And lying is wrong.”

She opens her arms for a hug, “Come here, and don’t scare me like that again, Peter Benjamin Parker.”

He hangs his head, but walks over to her. May grips him tightly, assessing any injuries he may be hiding. “I’m good, May. I didn’t spend my time getting beaten up.” 

“I never know with you, Peter,” She smiles sadly, pulling away. 

As she takes a step back, Peter turns around. He’s really bummed about Wade, and begins to head to his room.

“Hey, Pete?” Aunt May calls out to him as he goes, “Remember your birthday is a few days away. Do you have any plans other than having Ned and MJ over? Do I need to call Mr. Stark or Happy?”

Peter cringes at their names, a wave of sadness rushing through him again. He really needs to make it up to MJ, it’s the least he can do. 

“No, May, it’s going to be pretty lowkey. Probably just you, Ned and I. MJ and I are still fighting and Mr. Stark is pretty busy.” 

“Well you better round some people up, because I’ve already commissioned a cake!” Her eyes beam with excitement. 

“Mmhm, thanks, Aunt May,” Peter hums and turns back around to head to his door. He flops into his desk chair and looks around his room, head hanging over the back of the chair. It’s still clean from a few days ago, thankfully, and smells much better than it did before. 

His phone buzzing in his pocket startles him enough that he’s almost on the ceiling again. Shaking the tension out of his shoulders, he grabs his phone. It’s Ned. 

 

**_1:23 pm_ ** **Ned**

_ Hey dude what the hell is going on with SM and the papers?  _

**_1:24 pm_ ** **Peter** ****

_ Is there more? I haven’t checked since the stuff with DP _

**_1:24 pm_ ** **Ned**

_ No I haven’t seen anything. Did you do more stuff that would get JJJ’s attention?  _

**_1:26 pm_ ** **Peter**

_ I don’t think so?  _

_ Have you heard from MJ? She’s not answering any of my texts _

**_1:28 pm_ ** **Ned** __

_ Sorry dude, she’s AWOL right now. I haven’t heard from her since I left after dinner that night  _

_ Hows Wade?  _

**_1:28 pm_ ** **Peter**

_ We had a fight about Mr. Stark and I don’t know what to say to make it better  _

_ This whole thing is a mess man _

**_1:29 pm_ ** **Peter**

_ How do people do real relationships? MJ was right, I don’t know how to adult at all. Why would Wade want to spend time with someone who can’t even manage his own bedroom? _

**_1:30 pm_ ** **Peter**

_ Everything is falling apart, Mr Stark is mad, MJ is mad, Wade is mad. With my luck, you’ll get mad too and I’ll be alone on my birthday  _

 

He immediately feels bad about dumping his issues on Ned. His friend didn’t do anything wrong, and Peter doesn’t deserve his pity. 

 

**_1:30 pm_ ** **Peter**

_ I’m sorry, I just dumped all that on you _

**_1:30 pm_ ** **Ned**

_ I don’t know what to do about Wade and Mr. Stark, but have you tried just going out and finding MJ? Maybe if you apologize to her face, she’ll be more likely to forgive you  _

_ I’ve gotta go _

_ Mom wants us to get ready for this stupid cookout down the street. Sorry Peter  _

**_1:31 pm_ ** **Peter** __

_ No, it’s okay. Thanks for listening dude _

 

Peter sighs and moves over to the bed, stretching himself out. It’d be creepy to go find MJ, right? 

Yeah, it definitely would be. 

Before agonizing over MJ too much, Peter switches over to his texts with Wade, and shoots him a message. 

 

**_1:40 pm_ ** **Peter** ****

_ I’m sorry _

 

He tosses the phone down onto the bed beside him and huffs. That fight was pretty bad, and he hadn’t expected Wade to react like that. 

Peter taps on his chest a few times. What will happen when he tells Wade about his age? Will that fight be worse than this one? Oh god, what if MJ was right and he freaks out about the consent thing? 

The idea of Wade getting angry about his age sends a shiver down his spine. He can only imagine how much more angry Wade would be, considering his history with consent. 

“He’s going to break up with me,” He whimpers.


	17. This Dick is Now Legal

Peter wakes up on his birthday with a headache forming, and that just about sets the mood for the day. He rolls over in bed to avoid the light coming from his window, pulling the sheets over his head. 

He doesn’t know how long he lays there, listening to the thumps and creaks of morning people going about their day, before he realizes he’s not going back to sleep. With a groan, he pulls himself into a sitting position and grabs blindly for his phone. Pulling it from its tucked away spot between the mattress and the headboard, he quickly clicks it on to see the notifications.

There’s nothing waiting for him. What little hope he had is squashed like an errant spider on the wall. He opens up his messages as if that will magically send a text his way, but there’s nothing.

He cracks his neck and gets out of bed to go about his morning routine. Peter resigns himself to suffering through the aching hole in his stomach. Deciding he would rather feel miserable all day instead of getting his hopes up, he leaves his phone on the charger.

He’s in the middle of making some bacon and eggs in the kitchen when he hears a distant ding from his phone. The spatula splatters bacon grease as he drops it into the pan to run back to his room. He nearly yanks the charger from the wall as he grabs up his phone.

 

**_9:26 a.m_ ** **Ned**

_ Happy birthday! Now you can date Deadpool in any country lol _

 

Peter scowls at the message, typing back his furious reply while he walks back to the kitchen.

 

**_9:28 a.m_ ** **Peter**

_ Really Ned? Fuck off dude _

 

He sighs, setting his phone face down on the counter before going to salvage his eggs. He scrambles them perhaps a bit too enthusiastically as he thinks about Ned’s text. There is a security in knowing that he’s eighteen now, that he’s no longer in that nebulous age of over the legal age of consent but not quite a legal adult. Doesn’t make him any less conflicted when thinking of Wade. Because that’s just the problem: Wade.

He agonized about the fight all last night, long after he had stopped texting Ned. The silence he’s receiving is unnerving, to say the least. Wade being mad at him is hard enough to imagine, but he never thought that Wade would just stop talking to him. Quite the opposite, Peter imagined a fight with Wade would be like fighting his enemies as Spiderman; quips thrown back and forth as they get louder and louder, the fight escalating until one of them is screaming at the other, ready to throw something across the room.

Plating up his eggs, he throws himself down at the table, phone in hand. Shooting a text off to Ned, he starts picking at his food. 

 

**_10:02 am_ ** **Peter**

_ Hey what time were you going to be here _

**_10:03 am_ ** **Ned**

_ 12ish? _

**_10:03 am_ ** **Peter**

_ Okay, see you then _

 

Giving up on his eggs after only a few bites, Peter scrapes them into the trash and heads back to his room. Curling up on his side in bed, he opens up his text thread with Wade. Still no reply to his texts yesterday but he can’t help himself, sending off another one. 

 

**_10:06 am_ ** **Peter**

_ Are you still mad? _

 

He stares at his phone for a while, but there’s no reply. Wade must still be angry at him. 

Peter rolls over, dropping his phone down on the bed and burying his head in his pillow. He has no idea how to fix this with Wade. 

He must have fallen asleep because the next thing he knows, Aunt May is gently shaking him awake, “Peter? Sweetie?”

“May?” he mumbles, slitting his eyes open and turning his head to look up at her. 

“Hey,” she smiles. “Were you going to get up? It’s your birthday, after all.”

“What time is it?”

“About eleven. What time was everyone going to be here?” May asks.

Peter’s face drops into a scowl. “It’s still just going to be Ned. He said he would be here around noon.”

“Oh, sweetie. I’m sorry. You couldn’t patch it up with MJ?”

“She wasn’t answering her texts last night.”

May steps back, clapping her hands together. “Well, we’ll just have to make the best of it. Come on, keep an old lady company until Ned gets here?” She turns away, heading out the door and calling over her shoulder, “Oh, I invited a few extra people, I hope you don’t mind!”

“What?” Peter exclaims, jumping up and hurrying after her. “May, who else did you invite?”

“Oh, just a few coworkers that you know and I sent out a few invites to your old classmates, nothing major!”

“Classmates…” he stops in the hallway, then rushes after May, “Wait! May, I…”

She turns back to him with a hopeful expression, “Did you remember someone? I tried to remember everyone you mentioned, but,” May taps her greying hair, “Old lady memory.”

Peter thinks he can hear his heart shrivel up inside him. Aunt May knew that he didn’t like to talk about her age. It scared him to think of a world without his best friend and mother figure. She’s so excited for his birthday, for _ him. _

“No,” he finally says, “No, but thank you. For doing all this,” He motions around at nothing in particular.

May’s smile is familiar, and when she goes in for a quick hug, Peter readily accepts it.

“Come watch this new show with me! It’s hilarious, Peter. You’ll love it!”

He smiles at her again, following as she turns and heads over to throw herself onto the couch. Joining her, he curls up against the arm of the couch and slides his feet up against her thigh, settling in to watch with her. 

Peter rubs his eyes as the main character slides in and delivers a lackluster punchline. May chuckles heartily and looks over to Peter, who copies her weakly. Ned still hasn’t arrived and he’s on his second bowl of cereal.

He would have made himself a more substantial breakfast, but May insisted that he stay out of the kitchen until the party.

When the door buzzer finally goes off, Peter eagerly hops up from the couch and ushers Ned in.

“Hey, man,” Ned grins, handing Peter a gift bag. “I got you this.”

The package is covered in a thin brown wrapping and the size is so familiar he already knows it’s a comic book. He carefully peels the tape with a smile and sees striped red, white, and blue letters under plastic. He reverently slides the vintage Captain America comic out of the sealed wrapping.

“You went back for it?” Peter grins at Ned. 

“Of course, dude! I knew how much you wanted it. And hey, you only turn eighteen once, right?”

“Come on, let’s go check it out.” Peter gently slaps Ned’s back and heads for the couch, Ned close behind him. 

Unfortunately, they don’t get very far into it before the other guests that May invited start arriving. Most of her work friends know exactly who he is, and greet him like a family friend while he tries to catch their names. 

“Come on, come on, come on, Peter! It’s time to sing and cut the cake!” Aunt May calls from the kitchen, waving them over. 

“Oh, Aunt May, we don’t have to!” Peter wavers against the doorway.

“Get your butt in here right now, mister,” her face is stern now. 

She tugs Peter into the kitchen in front of a vanilla icing cake with the words  _ Happy Birthday, Peter _ written in big loopy letters on it. At once, everyone begins to sing as he hovers at the end of the table. Ned had trailed in behind them and gives him a thumbs up when Peter looks over with a pained smile.

A round of clapping and congratulations goes up as soon as the song is over and May starts cutting the cake. Peter snags the first slice and hurries back over to Ned, ducking his bright red face down as he inhales his bounty. 

After consuming 4 slices of cake, Peter gives up on trying to hide from everyone. Ned isn’t a very good shield, unfortunately. He finds Peter’s embarrassment too hilarious. So now Peter is wandering around the apartment, upset that MJ isn’t here. He makes his way to the kitchen, making sure to grab a few mini sandwiches to stuff his face with. 

He doesn’t quite get there though, getting stopped by a few of May’s coworkers and old classmates for quick birthday and post graduation chats. 

“So Peter, you have any plans for college?” A lady grabs his arm and he recognizes her from May’s work. 

“Not yet, I think I’m going to start with some genetics classes,” he smiles at the woman. She nods and lets him go after a quick happy birthday.

He can’t take a step before another voice catches his attention, “Hey, Parker! This is a pretty lame party you’ve got going here!” 

“Then why’d you show up, Flash?” 

“The food, obviously, and your Aunt, she’s pretty hot.” 

Flash has a mini sandwich in his hand. He brings it up to his mouth, shoving the whole thing inside. After a few chews, he speaks, “So you don’t have real plans for college? Makes sense, you didn’t seem like the person to know what he wants in life, not like me!”

Peter clenches his fists, anger spiking at Flash’s words. 

A knock on the door distracts him before he can say anything back. He throws a scowl toward Flash before jogging over to answer it. 

He opens the door a foot before stopping, “Uh,” Peter’s mouth hanging open slightly. 

“You going to let me in, underoos, or no?” Tony smiles at him, a gift bag hanging from his left hand. 

“Jesus, sorry, Mr. Stark. Yeah, come in,” Peter opens the door wider, letting the man pass him. As he’s about to shut the door, a hand comes out to stop it. 

“Christ, Peter, I know you don’t like me, but don’t shut the door in my face,” Happy chuckles a little.

“I’m sorry, Happy. What are you guys doing here?” 

“It’s your birthday, kid. I know you’re just an intern, but I’ve taken a liking to you.” Tony smiles, then turns his head to Peter and winks. All Peter can do is stare, “I’ve seen you looking at this little toy of mine for a few months, so I decided to give it to you. Sorry, ruined the surprise,” He holds up the bag in his hand. 

Happy leans forward, holding a bag out and whispering, “I’ve got your real gift in this bag, that one’s just a prop. You can’t actually have it.” 

Peter grabs the bag, peeking in. The spider insignia on the back of his suit stares back at him.

Peter’s head jerks up and he turns shocked eyes onto Tony, “I- I don’t know what to- Thank you, Mr. Stark. Thank you for coming, but you didn’t have to-”

“Nonsense, Peter, I like you. And you’re 18 now! You can legally buy a lottery ticket!” Suddenly, Tony turns and smiles at May, “Aunt May, please tell me you made some good food!” 

May smiles at him, “Of course, Tony. It’s in the kitchen, feel free to grab whatever you want. Happy, that includes you too!” 

Peter spins on his heels, detouring to drop the bag off in his room before heading towards the kitchen like earlier. He stops when he catches the look on Flash’s face, his jaw nearly on the floor. 

“Yeah, did you forget that I intern at Stark Tower, Flash?” He can’t help the snark in his tone. 

Finally, he walks into the kitchen and stops in front of the island. Aunt May went all out with the food; cake, cookies, sandwiches, fruit, the works. 

“Hey loser,” MJ appears beside him, picking up a cookie. 

Peter nearly spits out his food, “MJ? What are you- I didn’t think you’d- You’re here!” He gapes, surprised to see her.

“It’s your birthday, dude, I couldn’t miss that, and apparently Tony couldn’t either,” She takes a bite, “Mmm, these are good. Your aunt really went all out."

Peter’s gape turns into a grin, and he steps forward to offer a hug. She accepts, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Thank you for coming, MJ.”

“Shut up, Parker,” He can hear the smile behind her words. 

Pulling away Peter says, “I’m sorry about everything. I tried to find you, but Ned said you went AWOL and-”

“Seriously, Peter, we’ll talk about it later. It’s your birthday, let’s enjoy it.” 

He holds his breath and looks MJ straight in the eyes. She’s not going to back down from this, so he sighs and nods instead of starting another fight.

“Yeah, okay. Let’s party.”

MJ snorts, “I’m sorry, could you have said that in a more serious manner? You look like you just got sentenced, dude.”

He turns and discreetly motions to Aunt May’s work friends, who keep glancing over at them and cooing under their breath. 

MJ gives him a pitying look, “Come on, let’s make this couple a throuple. Ned?” she calls out.

Later that evening, when the party is long over and May went to bed an hour ago. They’re sitting around the kitchen table, catching up with each other. 

“What have you been doing, MJ? You went AWOL on everyone,” Ned looks at her with a smile. 

“I was busy looking at apartments and homeless shelters, I think my parents are kicking me out now that I’ve graduated. You been building nerd stuff?” 

Peter’s face falls and his heart clenches painfully at the thought of MJ being alone, “MJ, you-”

“Nah, family was really hyped about the parties around the neighborhood, and Peter was busy with Wade so I had to go along with them,” Ned interrupts. 

His head snaps back to Ned as he scoffs, “I would have hung out with you, man, I didn’t know you were being tortured by your family!” 

“You spent, like, three days with him, man! I wasn’t going to get in the way of you getting some dick!” Ned throws a hand up in exasperation.

“We weren’t having sex, Ned! And anyway, MJ! You can’t just drop that kind of bombshell on us and then ask how we’ve been! Your parents are really kicking you out?” Peter’s eyes flit between his friends. 

“Yeah,” she shrugs. “They’ve been hinting around at it pretty broadly. It’s whatever, I guess. I’ll figure it out.”

Peter reassures, “No, hey! I’m sure Aunt May won’t mind you staying with us for as long as you need! You don’t have to go to a homeless shelter.”

MJ quirks an eyebrow at him, “Well, I was planning on staying here tonight, at least. We can talk to her tomorrow. And what’s this about you not having sex with Deadpool?”

“I don’t want to have sex with him yet. Well- I mean, I do,” Peter’s eyes roll up and he bobs his head side to side for a second, “but I didn’t want to have sex with him while I was still 17. He still doesn’t know-” 

“What the hell, Peter! You still haven’t said anything?!” MJ bangs her fist on the table and throws her head back, laughing loudly.

“Soon, I swear! But, like, we had a big fight about Mr. Stark taking my suit and now he isn’t talking to me? I don’t know if it’s because he’s mad at me or, like, mad about the situation?” 

Ned rapidly slaps a rhythm on the table, “What if all three of us go find him, see if he’s actually mad at you? You’ve been dating long enough that he should meet us!”  

“No! I don’t want him anywhere near you guys until we figure out our stuff. There’s no point in having you guys meet him if we’re going to break up!” Peter scoffs. 

“Here’s a fucking idea, guys, why don’t you just text him?” MJ sighs, examining her nails. 

“I tried! He hasn’t responded yet.” 

“Try again,” Ned suggests. 

“Oh, I know! Send another dick pic, that got his attention last time!” she snickers as Peter scrubs at his face.

“Well, I’ve sent him a few more since then,” Peter laughs, face flushing with embarrassment at his own candor. 

MJ gasps in delight, “Peter! You slut, you!” 

Peter’s own laugh surprises him. It’s the first time he’s actually gotten the chance to laugh at everything going on with Wade, rather than feeling overwhelmed when talking about it.

His good spirits lift the whole group, and they spend the next couple hours laughing and chatting together before Ned starts yawning. He gets up and stretches, “Guys, I gotta go.”

“Yeah, it’s cool,” Peter waves him off. “I need to patrol tonight, still.”

“Yeah, see you later, Ned.” 

“Bye, guys!” Ned calls back to them one last time from the open door of the apartment, leaning in from the hallway. 

“Bye, Ned,” Peter and MJ simultaneously holler back.

Turning to Peter, MJ goes on, “I’m just gonna head to bed. You manage to keep your room clean enough that I have a place to sleep?”

“Last night was the first time I’ve slept in that bed in a few days.You can take my bed or the top bunk, both are clean.” 

MJ stands, stretching, before padding over to his bedroom door. 

“Hey, MJ?” Peter whispers, insecure.

“Yeah, loser?” She turns her head slightly, looking back towards the table. 

Peter blushes, “I’m really glad you came today, it kind of made my birthday.”

She’s smiling now, “Really, it wasn't Tony Stark showing up and making Flash nearly pee his pants? Or him giving you your suit back?” 

“Tony was nothing compared to seeing you, you know that.” 

He’s not looking at her now, blush burning his whole face. He can hear MJ huff and walk back to the table. Suddenly, a pair of thin arms wrap around his shoulders, and a pile of hair presses into the side of his head. Peter brings his arm up to caress her elbow, “You’re my best friend, Peter, even if you’re an idiot most of the time. I love you.” 

“I love you too, MJ," he smiles up at her. 

“Hey, Peter?” Her voice drifts from over his shoulder. 

“Yeah?”

Her arms tighten and she turns her head, burying it into his shoulder, “I’m sorry I hit you. I was panicking about everything going on with my parents and I just- I just let it boil over onto you.”

“MJ-”

“No, just let me-” she sighs, “My personal problems aren’t on you, okay?”

Peter turns in his chair, wrapping his arms around her, “Hitting isn’t ever a good thing, but, yeah. I forgive you. You’re one of my best friends.”

“It won’t happen again, okay?” she sighs into his shoulder. Pulling away, she smiles at him and makes her way to the bedroom, this time not stopping until the door is closed. 

Peter stands, following behind MJ. He opens the door a crack, grabbing the bag from Mr. Stark and Happy from his room.  Setting the bag down on the dining table, he pulls the suit out and holds it out in front of him. He can’t help but grin, running his fingers over the eyes of the suit, “I’ve missed you.” 


	18. What a Dick

Peter sees Wade waiting on the rooftop as he swings up. He’s a little hesitant when he lands and moves toward the other man. “Uh, hey, Wade. I wasn’t sure I would see you tonight. You never answered any of my texts?”

Wade’s head jerks to the side and he moves to stretch, maybe hoping to hide the obvious indicator that one of the boxes is talking to him. 

His hand cuts through the air and he turns toward the street. “Sorry, I was busy. No big deal, right? Can we just- Can we just get going?”

Peter blinks at Wade’s abrupt phrasing and cold tone of voice. He’s never heard Wade sound like that before. “Uh- I mean. You don’t want to talk about yesterday?”

“Really no,” Wade stays turned away, voice taking on a bitter edge. “Right now, I would just like to go find someone to beat up. And since you don’t approve of random bouts of violence, let’s go find some criminals, huh?”

“Yeah, I- I guess we can go.” Peter holds out his arm in offer, “Did you want a ride?”

Wade jerks his head, biting out a harsh no before backing up and taking a running jump off the building toward their usual patrolling area, parkouring along the roofs. 

Peter gapes after him for a moment before jumping over the ledge and swinging to catch up. 

“Hey!” Peter jerks forward when Wade suddenly makes a right turn, “Deadpool, where are you going?”

Without a backwards glance, Wade drops down between two buildings. Peter has swung himself high in an attempt to predict Wade’s moves, now he drops down as quickly as possible. Still, by the time he gets there, a fight is in full swing. 

Wade is a whirlwind, moving from target to target like he’s locked on to them. Both of his katanas are out, slashing through the small crowd with vigor. Peter winces at a particularly hard hit, sending a man almost as tall as Wade to the ground. The only thing that stops Peter from intervening is the location of Wade’s slashes. He’s clearly not going for lethal and- a howl of pain pierces the threats of the other lackeys as a much smaller man is pinned to the ground by a katana through shoulder. Peter decides it’s best to sit this one out.

Despite that choice, he isn’t idle, webbing fallen members of the gang and yanking them out of the fight, tying them up and checking for vital wounds. Even with Wade’s brutality, he has kept injuries to a minimum. He calls the police before Wade is done with the last man standing. 

“Thank you, DP,” Peter moves a little closer to Wade, who’s panting heavily. 

“Wh-what?” Wade almost stumbles as he turns around, glancing around as if lost.

Peter shrugs, “You’re pissed off, but you didn’t kill anyone. A little maiming, but only a little.”

Wade nods carefully, still swaying on his feet. Peter scuffs his foot against the ground awkwardly in the silence. 

Sirens are heard in the distance by both of them, and the spell is broken. 

They move away from the scene, hiding in an alley as ambulances and police flash by. Sighing, Peter turns back to talk Wade into following his lead, and only sees a dead end. Peter grouses the whole time he searches for Wade.

He does find him fairly quickly, but it’s a familiar scene. Wade is counter attacking through a group, letting them come to him. These drug dealers are far less of a threat than the previous gang members were so Peter doesn’t feel bad about sitting down to watch. 

“Ouch,” Peter cringes empathetically when two guys are knocked over by their thrown friend. An ambulance was definitely going to be waiting for them at the end of this. 

He looks up from his phone to a vacant lot, minus the bad guys. Peter hits the call button and begins running. He stays high on the roofs and keeps an ear out for the sound of swords and the muted gunshot of rubber bullets. 

“This. is. fun.” Peter calls out on each arch of his swings as he shoots after Deadpool for the fifth time tonight.

Peter’s gotten better at keeping track of him, but Wade appears to have no destination in mind. It’s mostly luck and the fact that this is New York that Wade continues to run into crime after crime. 

He’s suddenly picking up speed, and Peter can barely make out the speck of a person in the middle of hotwiring a motorcycle. Peter lands and watches as the guy immediately starts to whimper and beg for his life while Deadpool strikes the Sailor Moon pose at him. Peter claps respectively, because it’s the kind of night where he’s willing to do anything to preserve his sanity.

As Wade stands aggressively over the man, reciting the Moon promise word for word, Peter notices how hard he’s breathing. They’ve rapidly zigzagged across the city for a long time now, with Wade leading the chase the entire night. 

Peter walks up and pats Deadpool on the shoulder, “Come on, DP. We’ve got another hour left… And, I already called the cops.”

“Right, yeah,” he squats down with his hands on his knees, “Has it been five hours? Damn.”

They dart off at almost the same pace now, with Peter moving in front to guide them to the next hotspot of illegal activity. Wade starts to chatter as they climb, trying to make obscene comments while struggling for breath. Though he insists that he’s not tired when Peter asks.

He helps Wade climb buildings with a few well placed webs and Wade tosses some criminals his way during a few scuffles. Once he’s calmed down, he even starts cracking jokes at the criminals’ expense again, and the night starts to feel almost normal.

Peter turns them back toward the usual meet-up spot on impulse. For a few seconds, as Peter touches down on the roof and Wade is still climbing, Peter remembers when he was a lone vigilante without any other supers to tie him down. It was terribly lonely.

“And that’s why!” Wade hefts himself over the ledge and rolls to the ground, triumphantly, “You  _ never _ eat the most expensive coffee beans. Told you I could make it.”

Peter sits down next to him, “Can you walk?”

“Of course! I just don’t want to right now,” Wade tugs up his mask just to stick out his bottom lip in a pout.

Peter only laughs softly and lets the awkwardness settle between them. It’s scary to think that Wade might hop back over the roof and leave things broken between them. He loves so much about Wade, sometimes it’s hard to remember how hurtful he can be. How he used to be.

“Baby boy,” those words mumbled carefully into the silence take Peter’s breath away. 

“Yes?” He replies a little too eagerly, and Wade chuckles, lifting himself up to scoot closer.

“I was- I was thinking we could get tacos tonight!” Wade sits up and wiggles around before peering over the roof, away from Peter.

“I guess so?” The prospect of talking to Wade without filling in the gaping hole between them would feel incredibly odd, but there’s another reason he has to talk to Wade.

He needs to finally tell Wade how old he is. It’s time to get it over with, and let the pieces lay where they fall. Peter figures there’s no better time than when they’re already fighting.

Wade jumps to his feet, startling Peter and some cooped pigeons, “I was really thinking, last night, about…”

Peter waits for him to finish his sentence, but instead he does a little jig with his feet and walks away. Breathing out a sigh, Peter slips his mask off just as Wade stops and twists around, spreading out his hands as if asking Peter to give him a double high-five.

“Okay, Wade, I need to-”

“I’m sorry!” Wade’s words are panicked and a little too loud for their conversation in the dead of night, but filled with pleading.

Peter is the worst person in the world. He’s a dick, an asshole, he’s every manner of swear word one might use to describe a cowardly, abusive monster. He had wanted to confess his age to Wade so that he didn’t have to deal with rejection again. Now that he can’t use that excuse anymore, his first instinct is to curl up in Wade’s loving arms and say nothing but ‘I forgive you.’ He should be the one apologizing right now. He should be the one waiting anxiously, staring across at his lover with fear and hope.

Peter’s shoulders shake, which feels odd since he’s not crying. He can’t be crying, there’s nothing to cry about.

“I’m sorry, baby boy!” Wade begins again when he sees Peter’s lack of response, “Yesterday was really hard for me. The boxes were being pretty loud and harsh about the whole situation so I panicked and sent you away. Then, today when I saw you, I felt horrible about what happened! It was just wasn’t a great day so I needed to blow off some steam before even  _ trying  _ to talk to you.” He reaches hesitantly to Peter, wordlessly asking for a hug. “Do you forgive me?”

Peter can’t help but move into Wade’s arms, burying his head in the other man’s neck. “I was afraid you were still mad at me,” Peter mumbles out. 

Wade’s arms tighten around him, “Oh Petey, I really wasn’t ever mad at  _ you,  _ not really.”

As his hands rub into Peter’s back, they drag over the web design. Peter feels the suit lift away from his skin when Wade plucks at the back of it. Pulling back in stilted measures, Wade holds him at arms length to look at the suit.

“You’re wearing your suit,” Wade pulls back and looks Peter over, in bewilderment. 

“Well yeah, I wasn’t running around naked,” Peter laughs, scratched the back of his head, “Tony came over to give me the suit back today.”

Wade’s gaping dismay stretches his mask comically, “But  _ I _ wanted to be your sugar daddy! This is so unfair, Iron Dick ruins everything!” 

Peter’s face burns in embarrassment, “No one is my sugar daddy, Wade! There is no sugar daddy!”

Wade stamps his foot and whines as Peter glares him down, “Please, Petey! I would make the best sugar daddy ever! I have boatloads of money and I love buying pretty things. Why did Tony have to give you your suit now? I was going to make you a surprise!”

“It was just a birthday thing, Wade,” Peter rolls his eyes at the dramatics, “Celebrating my adulthood or whatever.”

There’s no response from Wade. Peter looks over with a questioning tilt, noticing that the other man has gone still. Peter’s stomach suddenly drops as he processes what just happened.

“Fuck.” Peter backs up a step, “That wasn’t- not like that.”

The white lens of Deadpool’s mask narrow then widen, “I don’t understand what just happened, if we’re being totally honest here. What exactly do you mean?”

“We’re not,” the words spill from Peter, a dam has broken and it spills out the truth, “I’m not. Oh, shit. Okay, this is... bad. Maybe? Yes, definitely. Uh- So, yeah. Today was my eighteenth birthday. Surprise?” Peter spreads his hands wide, hoping his weak joke might soften the blow.

He takes a deep breath, but the air is too thin and his chest feels too tight. This isn’t how he wanted to tell him. A grimace overcomes him as he waits on the rooftop for an answer. Yelling, crying, spiteful words, and ‘I-trusted-you’s, he could handle, but this dragged out silence feels overwhelming. 

“It’s your birthday today,” Wade begins slowly. “You didn’t tell me. You- you didn’t want me to know.”

Peter scrubs over his face with shaky hands. There’s too much silence.

“Peter, how old did you say you are, exactly?”

Peter presses his palms against his temples, squeezing harder and harder until his aching heart is drowned under a painful headache. There isn’t anything to hide now. The gigantic rug that Peter had somehow managed to sweep everything under has been lifted, and the dust is choking them both. 

“I turned eighteen today,” Peter says evenly, despite the fact that everything around him feels shaky.

The night feels normal. Peter could be standing here after any patrol, maybe even one of their dates, planning on their late night dinner, or spreading take-out over the rooftop. He wants that. Peter wants those nights so badly he can’t hear the traffic below, only the sound of Wade breathing.

If they were sitting down, cross legged and leaning against the edge, Peter could convince himself that it was just another night. If he wasn’t standing several feet away from Wade, with tears streaming down his face, he could pretend this isn’t happening at all.

The distance between them gets colder, but the tears on Peter’s face are searing into his skin until he has no choice but to acknowledge them. He wipes at them angrily. He doesn’t want Wade to see him as helpless, or young!

Only Wade isn’t looking at him at all. He’s turned to the side of the building where they climbed up, away from prying eyes. He takes two steps forward and Peter already knows that he’s going to leave.

_ “Wade,” _ Peter cries out, his voice is a cracked, defeated thing.

Still silent, Wade tenses, turning away from the side. He stalks away from Peter and from their usual exit to step up onto the opposite side. Below him, traffic is an endless stream of cars, picking their way through potholes and pedestrians.

Wade doesn’t jump. He steps out, and he falls.

Peter’s breath catches in his throat, but he doesn’t move when Wade disappears from view. There’s only a second where Peter’s heart doesn’t beat, and no noise makes it past the street. A loud crack breaks the deathly silence, and he’s racing over to check on Wade.

No blood paints the concrete, but Wade is a speck of red on the ground as Peter’s vision goes fuzzy. A few people inch closer to Wade in concern as he stands from his fall. An indiscriminate urge to yell at them to get away from Wade wells up in him. Peter waits. 

He waits until he sees Wade hobble into an alley. He waits until his mask is back on, and his breathing is calmer, and his tears are replaced by stubborn determination. 

And then he swings himself off the building, heading toward Wade’s apartment. They can’t leave it at that. Things aren’t over between them. Hopefully, Wade will listen and let him explain. 

Hopefully, by the time he gets there, he has some kind of explanation to give. 


	19. "Lying" by Dick Wilbur

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> READ THE TAGS PLEASE! WE JUST WANT TO MAKE SURE TO KEEP YOU GUYS SAFE!  
> -DRAMA  
> (Sorry about the CAPS, I like to yell a lot)

Peter swings rapidly, attempting to catch up with Wade. “Come on, come on. He’s on foot! He can’t go that fast!” He swings a little faster, this time giving less time between strings. 

He lands on the roof of Wade’s apartment building and stops to catch his breath. He’s panting from exertion but when a loud crack echoes through the tightly packed streets a flash of fear shocks him. That was a gunshot, and it came from the building he’s standing on.

He scurries over the side of the building, stopping at Wade’s bedroom window. Based on the echoes, the bullet could definitely have come from here. The curtains are open, showing no light or sign of entry. Peter fumbles with the lock anyway.

It’s when a gust of wind shifts that Peter is suddenly gagging on the smell of blood. He’s been around enough crime scenes to know what it smells like, and it’s close by. Turning right and left, Peter finally sees a window cracked open, one apartment over from Wade’s.

If Wade had entered someone else’s apartment in his hurry, he would show no mercy to intruders. Peter’s arms are shaking as he shuffles over and peers inside. 

Everything looks normal, the bed isn’t made and there are a few pairs of sweats on the floor, but no blood or gore, or anything to explain the horrible smell or the gunshot.

Peter steps inside, holding his breath as the smell gets worse. He pads to the half-opened bedroom door, and startles at the sight of a figure sitting quietly in an armchair. His heart racing at the scare, he steps into the living room and stops dead in his tracks. He can tell the instant he’s in the room that the source of the smell is slumped in the chair, a gun is held in a red and black glove, laying against his thigh. Peter can only see the right side of his skull where a crater is blown out, exposing brain matter, but mostly there’s just red.

Following the path from what would’ve been an exit wound, there’s a yellowing wall covered in tiny red dots. Some are slightly bigger than others, but mostly they’re identical strokes on a canvas. Blood is covering the carpet, chair, and walls. And from what he can see, most of it is old. Peter wonders what’s wrong with him, that he doesn’t need to gag or choke despite the foul sights and smells.

“Fuck! Wade… ” Peter gasps out, lunging for the body. 

Kneeling down to see the white lens of Wade’s mask, it’s eerie how alive Wade seems. His gaze is centered on Peter, face perfectly immobilized by the mask. It doesn’t look like Wade at all.

Red hanging down from his head and red splattered down the side of the chair. The smell has become almost unnoticeable compared to the sharp metal tang of blood, he can almost taste it now. Peter silently moves a couple steps back, seeing now that the left side of Wade’s skull is bulging from the pressure of the bullet against his brain. 

Without warning, bile surges up his throat and burns as he swallows it back down. He lifts his mask frantically and takes several deep gulps of air, only for the metallic smell to come back stronger than before. Retching on air, he stumbles to a window caked with dirt and wrenches it open. The polluted air mixed with the smell of a dumpster below is far easier to breathe. 

Peter chokes, and a long line of spit hangs from his lips as he leans out the frame. Sharp pain lances through his fingers and he turns his head enough to see splinters digging through his suit. Slowly pulling himself up on shaking arms, he grips the window above him and gives it a shake. The whole thing comes off the wall, into his grasp. 

Peter lets it fall. The wood is so weak it fragments into a hundred pieces once it hits the pile of garbage bags, the glass pops out with barely a sound. The bottom of the frame is digging into his stomach, but Peter is afraid the second he relieves the pressure the nausea will come back. He can’t even smell the blood anymore.

Eventually he has to move. He removes himself from the safety of the window and plunges into the scene at hand. The blood around Wade is mostly old, he realizes. The fabric of Wade’s chair is stiff from the layers of dried blood on it and Peter hopes it was brown originally. He notices a few other spots around the apartment now. Smears of red, deep gashes, and bullet holes are scattered in random spots.

Leaning closer to Wade’s body, Peter gingerly pulls the gun away, carefully placing it on the coffee table. Then he tilts Wade’s head, and takes off his mask. He doesn’t know if it matters, but he doesn’t want Wade’s body to regenerate with parts of fabric inside of it. Wiping away some blood, a rush of anger hits him.

Why now? Has he been doing this the whole time they’ve been together and Peter’s never noticed? What about when he couldn’t get ahold of Wade, was he offing himself then too? 

As the anger builds, Peter manhandles Wade into a better sitting position, leaning his head against the back of the chair while it heals. He can wait until the other man wakes up; it’s not like Wade can stay dead forever. 

Peter doesn’t clean anything else, Wade can do it himself. The asshole has gotten this far without him, he can use a mop and some bleach. 

He’s planted himself cross legged on the coffee table with his arms wrapped around himself, mask off and scowling when Wade startles hard and starts to breathe. 

“Fuck,” Wade mutters, word drawn out as his hand comes up to feel his healing head.

“Good to see you finally awake,” Peter snaps.

Wade’s gorgeous eyes blink rapidly as he jerks his head up, locking onto Peter’s furious stare. “What are you doing here?” The question is bewildered.  

Scowling, Peter throws himself to his feet. Gesturing around at the streaks of blood, he can’t help how loud he is, “What even is all this? Do you do this every time something bad happens? Did you do this when you kicked me out yesterday and then refused to talk to me?”

The rant gives Wade time to pull himself together, “You followed me here? How long have you been here, Peter?”

“Yeah, I followed you!” Peter scoffs, gesturing irritably around the apartment, “ And I’m glad I did, it let me find out about this little suicide apartment you have going on here. Were you going to tell me about this- this hobby of yours?” 

Something crosses Wade’s face, but Peter doesn’t know how to define it. Mouth tightening, Wade looks away. “Honestly, no. I wasn’t planning on telling you.” 

Peter gapes at him. “Are you kidding me? You didn’t think this was something I should know about you? You shouldn’t be killing yourself!”

Fury suffuses Wade’s face and he tenses, “You’ve been lying to me about your age this entire fucking time, you don’t get to try to dictate what I do!”

“That makes it okay for you to lie about this?” Peter aggressively waves an arm in Wade’s direction. “And what was that, earlier? You didn’t even say anything to me, you just took off!” 

“Look, I’m sorry, Peter, but I left because I just can’t deal with this. You know how I feel about this kind of thing! Why would you keep it from me?” Wade throws himself to his feet, pacing away from Peter and neatly side-stepping Peter’s question. 

Peter huffs, outrage flushing through him. “You break all the other laws but not this one? Seriously?”

“Don’t  _ even _ . This isn’t about laws, Peter! This is about the sexual assault of a minor!” Wade whirls around, stabbing a finger toward Peter. 

“Seventeen is the age of consent in New York,” Peter flatly replies.

Wade gapes at him in astonishment. Shaking his head, he grinds out, “And what about my consent?”

“You never asked for my age!” Peter flares up, yelling now, as his rage becomes outright anger. 

“So it’s my fault? So I  _ did  _ sexually assault you?”

Peter is shaking his head before Wade even finishes the question, “No, of course not! You didn’t hurt me, you never did anything I didn’t want.”

Wade stares at Peter. Closing his eyes as he shakes his head, Wade turns back to his chair, defeat in the slump of his shoulders. Waving at Peter as he flops down, “I’m done fighting about this. A lie of omission is still a lie.”

“It wasn’t like that! Wade-”

“No,” Wade cuts him off sharply. “Please leave, Peter. I’m done. I want you to go.”

Peter stares at him in silence, suspicion rising. “You’re going to kill yourself again, aren’t you?”

“What does it matter?” Wade scoffs.

“Are you kidding me? It matters! This is not a healthy way to deal with problems!”

“Fuck you,” Wade’s reply is flat. “You know, it’s really none of your fucking business, but I’ll explain. Sometimes I just need to reset. My mutation causes rampant cancer growth and leaves me in constant pain! Medicine or- or fucking _talking,_ doesn’t solve anything! This is the only way to deal with my problems.”

Wade turns angry eyes up at where Peter is still standing, reaching for his gun on the side table, “And unless you want to watch me pull a reset, you should go.”

“We need to talk about this!”

“We talked. I’m done. It’s time for you to go now.”

“No! I can’t just leave you to do this!”

Peter watches as Wade’s eyes seem to go flat at those words. A smile quirks up the side of his mouth as he raises the gun. As his spidey sense sends a tingle up his spine, Peter tries to throw himself forward to grab it, but he’s too late. The gun goes off before he can reach the other man. 

Blood and brain matter spray out over the back of the chair and the metallic scent of fresh blood almost overwhelms Peter. He lets himself fall to his knees and clasps a hand over his mouth, fighting not to gag. 

He doesn’t know how long he sits there, watching Wade’s head slowly heal, before he drags himself to his feet. He doesn’t want to be here when Wade comes to. Turning away, Peter sees some paper and a red crayon sitting on the coffee table. Grabbing them up, he leaves Wade a note. 

**_Call me later, please. I care about you and I want to try to work this out._ **

**_Peter_ **

  
  


 


	20. Dicking Around

Wade doesn’t call him later. Three days have gone by and Peter still hasn’t heard anything, despite sending the other man the same text every day. Peter scrolls through their message thread.

 

 **_Tuesday 3:24 am_ ** **Peter**

_Please call me when you’re ready_

**_Wednesday 2:19 pm_ ** **Peter**

_I want to try to work this out with you. Please call me?_

**_Thursday 12:48 pm_ ** **Peter**

_I still want to talk, please call when you’re ready_

 

Heaving a deep breath in through his nose, Peter stands and tosses his phone on his desk. Heading over to the closet, he reaches up and grabs his suit out of its hiding place, pulling it on. 

He heads up toward the roof as soon as he slips out of his window. 

“Hey, Karen.”

“Hello, Peter. How are you tonight?”

“I suppose I could be worse. Anything I should head towards right now?” he crouches on the ledge, gazing over the skyline as he asks.

“I have heard nothing over the police scanner.”

“Alrighty, then.” Throwing himself off the building, Peter starts swinging, listening for distinct sounds of violence.  

He finds himself swinging towards Wade’s apartment. He debates with himself for a moment, but no sooner does the thought cross his mind than he’s headed in that direction. He’s been there every night since the fight, but hasn’t found anything except darkness and bloodstains. Even so, he can’t help but check again. 

Landing on the fire escape, he notes the darkened interior. Leaning on the window frame, he can see that the blood stains still decorate the carpet and chair. The gun and Wade are gone but otherwise, everything is the same as when he left the last time. 

Turning, he lets himself flop back to lean on the window, gently knocking his head against it. 

“Peter?” Karen asks.

“Yeah, Karen?” 

“Why have you come to this window for the last three evenings?” 

Peter sighs. “I just want to talk to Wade. He’s ignoring my calls.” 

Standing himself back up, Peter rolls his shoulders and neck, “But I’m done here for now; still nothing on the police scanner?” 

“No, Peter.” 

Swinging out on a web, Peter leaves the empty, bloodstained apartment behind, “Let’s go, then. Maybe I’ll get lucky and spot him.”

Peter doesn’t get that lucky, though. Swinging through the night, he manages to stop a gas station robbery, two car jackings, and a mugging. He fights through his disappointment as he deals with everyone quickly. 

There’s no sign of Wade. No flashes of a red suit or swinging swords, no leftover mayhem to suggest he had been somewhere, and no matter how many times he asks Karen, there is never any mention of him on the police scanner, either. 

Giving up when the sky starts to lighten, sun peeking over the horizon, Peter finally heads home. Letting himself in through his window, he grabs his phone off his desk as he steps out of his suit, already checking to see if he has new messages. Of course not. 

Tossing his phone back on his desk, he turns and flops face first down on his bed, leaving the suit puddled on his floor. 

Burying his head in his pillow, he fights the urge to scream. How can they move on from here if Wade refuses to talk to him at all?

* * *

 

The acrid smell of burning flesh makes Wade sneeze.

“Ugh, fucking disgusting.” He tries to wipe his nose under the mask, but only succeeds in spreading the snot around. Wade tightens the knot one last time, ignoring the moans of pain from a barely lucid researcher.

**{When are you not?}**

“Oh you guys are back. Hooray.”

_{Hey, I haven’t even said anything yet!}_

The hotplate above his head is still burning the woman’s thumb on top of it, so he decides to move to the next room. He’s halfway to the front of the laboratory when bullets fly past his head. There’s at least three other guys still in the area, the first one having been tied up to the steel table. No handy dandy webs to help him, but some paracord did Wade just fine.

_{Spidey wouldn’t like how you’re handling this! You cut off her thumb and now you’re letting her bleed out. If he was here he’d do some cool tricks on the ceiling to sneak away.}_

“Shut up!” Wade snaps, ducking behind a long row of counters with an assortment of medical and science equipment along it. The sight makes his skin crawl, but he pushes it back and moves forward. Silently, he crouch walks to the other side as quickly as possible.

Following behind him is a hail of bullets that go through the flimsy wooden drawers right where he was a second ago.

“I thought these guys were just nerdy little scientists,” Wade grumbles.

**{It’s S.H.I.E.L.D for Pete’s sake, even the researchers carry shots of valium in case one of their little experiments escape.}**

_{It’s a sad day when White out puns the both of us.}_

There’s a whirring sound, like a drill starting up, and then a crack as something blasts through the counter next to him. The ray gun singes the side of his arm from the sheer heat coming off of its laser. He’s forced to get out of position before it could burn through his suit. With a grimace of pain, he stands and lets out a few rounds into the space around his attackers, expecting the few bullets that catch him in the chest. The blast of noise and bullets sends them ducking, giving Wade enough space to slide over the counter and toward the door. 

A ding sounds on his left and Wade halts, grinning.

“Oh! My panini!” he reaches over on one foot, trying to grab his lunch and hit the door handle with his foot at the same time.

He uses his other hand to shoot randomly into the walls, hoping it will keep everyone in their hiding spots. The whir of the ray gun begins again and Wade only just manages to get his hand out in time for the ray to hit the back of the microwave. His panini is not so lucky. Most of it is burned black or completely missing.

 _“Fuck!_ That was my midday snack, you asshole!” he hisses as the microwave goes up in flames.

Two more idiot scientists start to brave his hail of gunfire. Apparently they weren’t science-y enough to garner the honor of a ray gun, but one of them is still wearing his lab safety goggles, _the nerd._  

_{Petey taught us about his lab safety rules! You have to wear closed toed shoes and know the location of the fire blanket and first aid kit...}_

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” Wade gets the door open as the fire alarm begins its shrill call. The noise is almost unbearable next to Yellow whining about eye rinse stations.

For the next fifteen minutes he’s busting down doors and dodging bullets, trying to find an exit that isn’t bulletproof or covered in security guards.

“Why,” he fires into the ceiling with a rifle he found abandoned, “do you people make it so _hard,_ ” he grunts at the impact of another bullet and walks backward up the stairwell, “to not kill you!”

Wade managed to lose them by looping back around, where he may or may not have cut off a woman’s thumb, to take advantage of the windows opened by the shoot out. He uses a fire axe to chop wider a gap- { _I told you lab safety is important! And Peter did too!}_ -and wiggles through with one hand cupping his dick and one on his other special package.

**{We certainly went through enough trouble to get it. Now let’s get out of here before something finally goes wrong.}**

Halfway down the building, he hears a mechanical whir and twists around on the rope to see Ironman skirting around the other side. Wade growls under his breath, ignoring White’s panicked urging in favor of Yellow’s imaginative vengeance. At least until Stark begins to actually move around, undoubtedly looking for the exit that Wade is currently rappelling down.

Locking his knees around the rope, he quickly lets it slide through his hands, swearing through the rope burn, and drops the last few feet. He hits the ground running. There’s no time to hide any of the evidence of his not so graceful exit, not if he doesn’t want to get caught by Iron Britches. Instead he runs across traffic, and through buildings when he can, trying to scatter his trail. 

Finally, a bridge gives him enough shelter to check his surroundings. There’s not an Ironman in sight, but he’s now twice as far from his house. Bending backward so far his back pops, Wade takes a deep breath in, then lets out a muffled scream. 

“Okay… I’m good now.” He picks his way under the highway, following the path of a flood line into the city.

He’s got plenty of time to kill, but now there’s no killings to do. Stroking his fingers over the pouch secured at his side, he pulls out one of the sheets of glass from inside. Wade can’t see his fingers gripping underneath it, the foggy white surface obscuring every bit of light. Flipping it over however, the glass is not only see through, but has a tint to it, preventing sun glare. He runs a finger delicately over the edge of the glass. It’s going to be perfect to protect Peter from any damage.

**{Oh good, now the superhuman won’t need glasses… Oh wait!}**

“It’s nice! He won’t have any sun in his eyes when he’s flipping around and punching bad guys,” Wade snorts, “Or when he’s just trying to show off for the little kids and does a loop in the air and swings away at the last second.” He can see it so clearly, that pleased smile hidden under the mask.

_{You’re such a fucking hypocrite. Going back to being lovesick over a teenager so soon, old man?}_

**{It was you who wanted to fuck him so bad, Yellow.}**

“It doesn’t matter!” Wade spits out, “No one’s fucking anyone!”

_{And doesn’t that just leave you hard at night?}_

With a low growl, Wade charges past some nervous homeless people and into the sunlight. He’s still about an hour from his safehouse, but there is one place he can get to pretty easily from here. Stark Tower is off to the side of downtown and from here Wade would be facing its back.

**{Lemme guess, another gift for Peter?}**

“It’s not a gift. It’s- it’s all one gift. So, a gift, but only one!”

**{Which means you’re doing more work for a single gift…}**

“Just... shut up!”

The boxes have been so loud since Peter left him in his suicide apartment. They argue constantly, sometimes with him, but more often with each other. Yellow seems to have a different opinion every time Wade wakes back up from a self appointed bullet. He whined and cried for Peter just this morning. Now he thinks it’s Wade who’s disgusting for ever harboring feelings. Wade doesn’t know what to think. 

White sits firmly with the choice of leaving Peter alone for good, maybe even moving out of the city for a while. But, for the first time that Wade can ever remember, he doesn’t have the gall to yell at White for his dumb, reasonable decisions. Not only does Wade desperately want to agree, he also hears how much White is emotionally hurting. Which is terrifying, if he’s being honest.

Wade trudges along toward the city for another mile, listening to the boxes bicker some more, and occasionally pulling out the glass to hold it again. It doesn’t take long at all once Wade can bribe a taxi cab to take him there. Stark’s tower isn’t heavily guarded because of how many businesses and labs are within its confines, so it’s not hard to pick a spot within its many angles that isn’t in plain view.


	21. Makeshift Dick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAAAAAHHHH LATE AGAIN! I'm so sorry guys, we have no excuse. Life? College? Kids? All of the above?
> 
> Thanks as always for monsterleen, our beautiful beta! We couldn't do it without her.

_{Suction cups?}_

**{This is so dumb.}**

“Checkerooni!” He’s already begun his ascent. 

_{Rappel line?}_

Wade stops to shuffle around in his pockets, “Uh… I think I packed extra.”

**{Why are we doing this?}**

_{Parachute?}_

**{What almighty power has cursed us to this degree?}**

“Para-! Parachute? What the hell do I look like, James Bond? Of course not! I’ll just go splat on the ground like a normal person.” Wade shrugs, already a few feet in the air.

_{Fair enough! Anyway, Whitey, this is not stupid! We’re doing this out of our love for Peter and his Spidery prowess.}_

Wade slides down a step. 

**{So now we’re back to liking him? Great, just great.}**

Wade tries his hardest to only focus on the path in front of him as the boxes continue to bicker. He’s sweating harder than a ballsack in August, and only halfway up, so aims for a section of the building that juts out from the main column. Wrestling himself over a railing, he discovers, to his body’s immense relief, that it’s actually a balcony with doors leading right into the Tower. 

“Thank fuck,” he wheezes face down on the ground, “They never tell you how much ab strength that requires.”

_{You think Peter does crunches everyday? He must, right? But we never saw him shirtless.}_

Rolling onto his feet, he valiantly tries to ignore Yellow’s pointed questions about Peter’s naked body and inspects the door leading inside. It’s glass, but that doesn’t mean much with Stark technology. It could very well be just as impenetrable as steel, and he didn’t think to bring explosives with him. There is, however, a little gap between the double doors, enough for him to slip a knife in. He does exactly that, crouching to finagle the blade up to the lock. Trying to find enough grip to turn to the bolt from the inside is always the trickiest part, but he’s only at it for a few minutes when the lock clicks and the door opens without any pressure from his knife.

**{Yeah, no, can we get the fuck out of here now? This is some horror movie shit and we’re a comedy.}**

_{That’s gonna be a hard pass from me, as well.}_

“Pussies…” he slips inside after a quick survey of the empty room. 

It looks like an office break room, if a bit swanky. The kitchen is mostly fridge and coffee pots with some bagels sitting out. The tables are lined up neatly, and either unused or recently cleaned because there’s neither a chair out of place nor a crumb to be seen. The door closes behind him.

_{Eep!}_

“We just gotta find the labs. That’s all we need!” he peeks out the only other exit and sees a corridor with a few small offices. He goes down the hall, noting that next to each office is a shiny plaque, naming a doctor something or other along with about five more credentials. “See! We’re close! We’re going to follow this yellow brick road all the way to their conveniently located nanotech storage room, and then we’ll be out of here!”

**{Actually, here’s an idea! Fuck this!}**

_{My spidey senses are tingling… }_

**{You have zero idea where you’re going, you’re not even prepared for a fight. We’re stuck in the middle of freaking Stark Tower without the barest hint of a plan. We’ve always gone with spontaneous! I get it! But this isn’t running after thugs or taking a job, this is plain stupidity with a side of desperation! If there’s one place in the entire world that we could actually be eternally locked down without a chance of escape, it would be here! But no, you don’t want to think about that, because of all your stupid little distractions; you’re still doing this for Peter, you’re still trying to follow his rules, and you’re still RISKING. EVERYTHING!}**

He doesn’t even hear the wall slide down behind him. One minute he’s turning the corner to check out a fancy-looking entrance, then a huge panel drops from the archway and, when he turns around, there’s one covering his exit, too.

“Welp-”

_{We’re fucked.}_

“Good afternoon Mr. Wade Wilson, known by the moniker of Deadpool. May I inquire as to your presence here?”

The cheerful voice doesn’t have an obvious source as Wade whirls around in a circle, trying to spot a speaker, a vent, anything that could be the source. 

“Uuuuuhh…” 

**{Yeah, that’s intelligent.}**

“Stark Tower is a private property with a no-exceptions policy for trespassers. Please locate and present your registered ID card.”

Wade settles on a camera above the door to focus on. “I’m getting the distinct impression that you know full well I don’t have one.”

“Please locate and present your registered ID card. It is official policy to allow three tries before a suspect is apprehended.”

“What are ya gonna do? Laser me?”

**{Don’t provoke the omnipresent robot lady.}**

_{Oh my god, what if we’re dropped down a chute? Like the floor is actually a giant trapdoor; that would be so cool! Oh, but I want to see the lasers! La-sers! La-sers! La-sers!}_

Digging through his pockets, Wade frees a hand to wave it frantically around in an attempt to shush the boxes and placate the mystery voice.

“I think I got a little… uh, yep here it is!” He proudly holds up an expired coupon for two free tacos to the camera, “That should get you something nice, darling.” 

The walls to his left and right spring open and deliver two bolas straight to the chest.

“What happened to,” he gasped for breath as the chains wiggle into a tighter position, “three chances?”

“I gave you your first chance at the door, Mr. Wilson.”

_{No lasers?}_

**{I- you know what? I’m not even going to say anything.}**

Wade laughs, though it comes out more like a wheeze. “That’s not gonna last long and you know it!”

There’s only the sound of a grumble from White before a flat, t-shaped piece comes from his right and curls around to grasp him around the middle. Wiggling the coupon still clutched in his hand, he tries to appeal to the scary robot woman, but there’s no response. Struggling against the arm makes the pain worse, to the point where Wade wonders if this would’ve instantly knocked out a normal person.

_{It’s a big garbage grabber thingy! I’ve always wanted to be picked up by one of those!}_

While the arm lifts him up and into the opened wall, he grimaces to himself, “Our own personal garbage disposal, _for us._ Man, I bet so many of my friends wish they had this. Hahaha…”

_{... ouch. Eh, rough crowd?}_

Wade doesn’t bother to respond. He’s looking down the giant elevator shaft the arm has pulled him into. Luckily, the ride down is smooth and not fast enough to nauseate him, though it does get boring after a while. Yellow’s box cheers him along, happy to have predicted the chute and enjoying the ride down. White still hasn’t shown up, again.

When the carnival ride finally stops, the arm sits above an empty, padded room. The prongs abruptly open, dropping him down a few feet with a wince.

“I’m really starting to think a normal person wouldn’t survive this,” he mumbles into the floor.

The bola chains make a jingling sound, and when Wade shifts his weight to sit up, they slide down easily. The room is uneventful, literally a ten by ten area with padded walls and floors. A sliver of fear drips into Wade’s thoughts, but he can’t let anything get to him. Super heroes or no, he’s in enemy territory now. He tries to conjure up something to keep him occupied and happy, like cleaning his guns, a freshly made tortilla being stuffed with meats, or Peter waiting for him on the rooftop with a blush that he thinks doesn’t extend to his soft lips but Wade can see it clear as day in the starlight.

He squeezes the heels of his palms to his eyes, the image staying branded there. Squirming into the corner for a better advantage, Wade tries to go over each possible scenario that could happen when anyone enters through the door. The door that must be hidden in the padding, and now that he’s frantically searching for it, is nowhere to be seen. Jumping up, he paces the perimeter, slamming his fist down every few inches to listen for a hollow thump. There’s nothing. Not the third time he does it, not the seventh, not the time he goes backward or counterclockwise or clockwise or…

Fuck. _Fuck._

Throwing his worthless body back into a corner, Wade forces his breath to even out. Tin Can wouldn’t let him starve, right?

_{But he must know it’s you. And if he knows, then he can just keep you here forever.}_

“STOP!” he clutches around his mask, clawing at it until it twists halfway around and he can’t see through his left eye, “SHUT THE FUCK UP. SHUT UP!”

He has to hold his breath when he tugs the mask off because he can’t find the clasp to undo it. Instead he yanks at it desperately while it tightens under his jaw, then finally there’s a snap and he’s free. Only, when he scrubs at his face he can feel the scars and wounds responding painfully to his rough treatment. There’s nothing to claw off, not without using his nails, but he can’t bear the thought of more skin showing. 

Absolute rage overtakes him quickly. He slams the mask into the ground and whirls around, standing at the same time, to slam his fist so hard into the wall he can feel the solid material behind the cushion. It won’t budge though, it never will. He’s stuck here until Stark takes mercy on him. And doesn’t that just make his anger spark right back up?

_{Ugh! This is so boring! I wish Peter were here.}_

Wade thumps his head weakly against the wall. “Why would you say that?” he asks quietly.

_{Because! He would cheer us up with jokes and we would make jokes with him. And not the sad ones you do either. Peter always has funny jokes!}_

Yellow is surprisingly silent after that, leaving Wade to soak in his words for a few minutes. He turns around to lean against the wall and slide back down into a sprawled position.

“Nah, Peter would just bust open this cage without a problem,” Wade sniffs as he imagines how Peter would react in this situation. “He would probably also like the trash arm and think it’s too slow. He’d forget his super strength at first… He would look around and nod, and check all the walls, but calmer. There’s probably a sciencey explanation on what to look for and how to find the weak point. Then he could just swing those little noodle arms around like an inflatable tube man and we’d be out of here.”

Wade slides further down with a wistful sigh.

_{And he’d look sexy as hell doing it, too. Gasp! If he was wearing our suit… and did a kick to knock the door out? Gah, I’m gonna nosebleed all over my box.}_

He wanted to be mad again. At the whole situation, sure, but mostly at Yellow for reminding him how miserable he’s been these last few days without his baby boy. Every minute has been an extra battle to keep not only his own thoughts, but the thoughts of the boxes off of Peter. Peter who got his mask stuck on his nose on their third date, and would get shy and happy every single time Wade got him a gift. Peter who would sometimes do a flip in the air and for a second when they were facing each other, their eyes always met. He missed the steely nature Peter would adopt anytime he thought someone was harassing Wade, good guy or not. He missed pressing leftovers onto Peter and having to sneak in snack breaks during patrols. 

He also missed the phone calls and texts late at night. It was usually after a date too, a game of tag where they would rile each other up all night, then leave with nothing more than some chaste kissing. Peter would say good night with a kiss on his cheek that felt more seductive than any of their make out sessions. It always felt like an unspoken _Tag, you’re it._ And Wade would certainly be the first one to break, the first to text, the first to ask, but Peter would respond immediately with an enthusiasm that sometimes rivaled Wade’s own. And then the game was truly on, Peter playing at being coy despite a constant nervous energy surrounding their time face to face.

_Tag you’re it._

Wade should’ve known he was too young. He knew he was young, but college young, not… dating my highschool teacher for an A young.

_{That’s one of my fave tropes for sure. Oh my god, are we a trope?!}_

It’s Peter’s youth that drew Wade in, too. There is some ugly little beast in his chest that dove at any opportunity to be the first of Peter’s everything. And that something wanted to see Peter in _his_ suit, wearing the materials he stole and the design he made. 

_{He’s going to look so good in the thigh highs!}_

“He’s going to look gorgeous. Doesn’t he always?” Wade sighs wistfully.

_{All his high kicks are going to be a hundred times more sexy.}_

“Is that even possible?” He’s pretty sure he’s going to faint on sight if Peter gets much hotter than he already is.

**{If you can even get him to wear it…}**

_{Look who’s back! Mr. Grumpy Pants and his sour fucking attitude. Can you not interrupt this one non-depressing moment with your depressive-ness?}_

“He’s right, though. Even if we make it, there’s no telling that he’ll actually decide to wear it, and it’s not like I’m going to force him into it.” 

_{We’re not? Not even for a single picture?}_

**{I’m not just talking about how he feels about you. Peter is actually a reasonable person, so if you somehow make a better suit than Stark’s, he’ll probably still wear it.}**

Wade perks up for a second, but then slumps back down at another thought. “I don’t know if I’d call Peter reasonable. Intelligent, sure, but his decision making isn’t all there.”

**{He’s young. That’s expected. He’s made mistakes and he’ll learn from them. He’ll make more mistakes and learn from them, too. It’s never going to be easy, whether you’re friends with him or more, but the most important thing to deal with is his safety.}**

Wade pulls himself up slowly, stretching out his back and taking another look around the room.

**{I agree. We won’t be of much use to him in here. We need to find our way out and get this nanotech so that Peter will always be safe. You’re not gonna like this, but.. We may have to ask Stark for help.}**

_{No! Never, never, never! I don’t care if we never get the stupid materials, we have the eye pieces and the kevlar, he doesn’t need anything else!}_

With a growl, Wade lifts himself up and starts to pace. He agrees with White about keeping Peter safe, but the thought of having to even try asking Iron Dildo for help makes him itch. There’s no way that Stark would actually help him, either. Why would he, when he was so willing to take away Peter’s suit because of who he’s dating.

“I’m trying to create something that rivals the iron spider! That’s why I came here in the first place. It’s not my fault his AI came after me so quickly,” He stops pacing to push against the panels hopelessly.

**{So you’re going to give up and leave Peter with no chance of survival should he get into some deep shit? Or maybe you’re just a masochist imagining that Peter will never wear our gift…}**

_{Ooooh, it’s fucking on now! You gonna just take that?}_

“Fuck that shit! Stark doesn’t get to be his sugar daddy! I’m his sugar daddy!”

_{HELL YEAH!}_

**{Wait, no, we aren’t doing that anymore.}**

“I don’t care if I have to get down on my knees and beg him. I will get that damn tech from him and make Peter something he’ll wear on his deathbed!” 

_{Yeah! Uh, hold on, what’s this about begging? And I thought the whole point is that he doesn’t die in this?}_

“And we can go to more evil corporations, too! We haven’t even tried Oscorp yet and there’s bound to be some nanotech throughout their labs. Okay, the second we’re out of here, we ask Stark for help, and if he says no, then we take down every single place from grandma’s chinese apothecary to hydra bases until we find what we need!”

**{I should’ve just kept my mouth shut.}**


	22. Iron Dick and His Maiden

“Peter, you have an incoming text from Tony Stark. Should I display it?” Karen asks.

At Karen’s question, Peter fumbles his next web-shoot, barely hitting the building he wanted, and swinging him off course enough that he has to rapidly shoot out extra webs to keep himself from hitting the building. “Karen! You can’t interrupt me like that while I’m swinging!” 

“Apologies.” 

She waits until he lands a few moments later to ask again. “Should I display it now?”

Peter sighs, waving his hand tiredly, “Yeah, sure.” 

The words that scroll through his field of vision don’t make sense at first. Tony has written _come get your boyfriend, he's being a nuisance._ His boyfriend?

“Karen, bring up my wrist app, please?” Looking down, he sees the holographic image pop up instantly. He quickly types out a reply.

 

 **_3:24 pm_ ** **Peter**

_What?_

**_3:25 pm_** **Mr. Stark**

_Deadpool. He broke into the tower. Come get him_

**_3:25 pm_ ** **Peter**

_What? What happened why is he there?_

**_3:26_ ** **Mr. Stark**

_I’m tired of him cluttering up the place_

**_3:26_ ** **Peter**

_Did he attack you?_

**_3:27_ ** **Mr. Stark**

_Are you coming or should I just pitch him out?_

 

He had gone out on an impulse this afternoon, hoping to get Wade off his mind and maybe be lucky enough to run into some criminals. His nightly patrols had started to feel stagnant without company and he’d wanted to burn off some energy. He can tell the lack of sleep is starting to weigh on him, but the image of Wade sitting dead in a chair keeps flashing behind his eyelids every time he tries to close them.

 

 **_3:28_ ** **Peter**

_Omw_

 

Sighing, Peter scrubs at his face. What had Wade done now? _Why_ had he decided to break into Stark Tower? And Tony was okay enough with Deadpool to call Peter to come pick him up so that was something, but he wasn’t willing to tell Peter anything. 

Shaking himself out, Peter sets off for Stark Tower. If nothing else, he had already told Mr. Stark he was on the way. Hopefully he would learn more once he actually got there. 

Peter swings to the top of Stark Tower and is surprised to see that Tony isn’t waiting for him on the roof. “Karen, can you connect to FRIDAY inside the tower?” 

“No, sorry, Peter. I cannot.” 

“Alright, that’s fine,” he heads for the door on the corner of the roof and tugs sharply, expecting it to be locked. When it opens without much effort, he stumbles and almost falls at the lack of resistance.

“Welcome, Spider-Man,” FRIDAY’s voice greets him. 

“Hey, FRIDAY, where’s Mr. Stark?” Peter looks curiously around the room. It’s empty; no Mr. Stark and definitely no Wade.

“Sir is at a SHIELD facility and will not be back until later this afternoon.” 

“What? He asked me to meet him here,” Peter exclaims.

“I’m sorry, Spider-Man, that is what I know.” 

Peter lets his head fall back on his shoulders, sighing. “Karen, bring up my texting interface, please.” 

“Of course, Peter.” He looks down as his wrist lights up with the holographic keypad.

There are no new messages from Mr. Stark and his message history with Wade is depressingly the same. Maybe it’s too optimistic to hope that Wade would at least trust Peter to get him out of trouble, but apparently, he can’t even be helpful as a superhero.

 

 **_3:47 pm_ ** **Peter**

_I’m here where are you?_

**_3:47 pm_ ** **Mr. Stark**

_Friday will direct you to where he’s being held. I’m not dealing with it. He’s your boyfriend, just get him out of the Tower without him stealing anything._

**_3:48 pm_ ** **Peter**

_That’s it?_

**_3:49 pm_ ** **Mr. Stark**

_The idiot climbed the side of the tower and broke in, that’s all I know._

 

Peter can’t help but slap a palm over his face in embarrassment. Of course, Wade would break into the building without stopping to worry about the security. 

“FRIDAY, can you tell me where Wade’s being kept?” Peter asks, stepping toward the door he knows leads toward an elevator.

“Mr. Wilson is being held in a personal cell in the East Wing. Would you like directions?” 

“Yes, please,” A ding comes from above him and the lights flicker once. 

“Go to the elevator and then follow the lights, Spider-Man.” 

“Thanks, FRIDAY.” 

Stepping out of the elevator, Peter follows the lights that FRIDAY illuminates in front of him, padding down the seemingly endless hallways until he comes to a door at the end of the third hall. Steeling himself, he opens the door. “Wade?” He peeks his head in, glancing around quickly. Wade’s in the middle of the room, sitting numbly on the floor, facing the wall. 

“What do you want?” Wade jerks, twisting around halfway. 

“I’m here to get you; Mr. Stark said you broke in.” Peter stares intensely at the floor. 

“Peter?” 

“Yeah, it’s me. Come on, let’s go.” He looks up for a second, but his gaze lowers again at Wade’s scowling ferocity.

“No, I’m not going anywhere with you. I promised White that I could get out of here on my own, and dammit, that’s what I’m going to do!” 

“You don’t have to prove anything to White, you know that. He’s just going to be a jerk to you anyway.” 

“What do you know? You don’t ever hear them,” Wade snaps. “Go away! I’ll figure my own way out of here. And I’m still mad at you, by the way! Why do you even care this much? I’m a fucking mercenary, I kill people for a living!” Wade shouts.

“You haven’t killed anyone in a long time, Wade,” Peter isn’t going to let Wade drive him away again, especially not like this. 

“I’ve killed thousands of people before now and all it takes is me leaving on one job or finding just the right asshole. I don’t fit your fucking ideals, Spidey,” Wade bitterly waves a hand at himself. 

Peter sighs and lets himself take stock of the other man, seeing the crossed swords on his back that Peter hasn’t seen used in months and the guns that he knows have rubber bullets in them before he shakes his head. “You’re a good person.” 

Wade snarls and stomps away, punching the wall as soon as he got close enough before leaning into it. His words come out soft and defeated, “No, I’m really not.”  

“Please, Wade?” Peter can’t help the pleading in his voice. 

Wade doesn’t turn back to look at him. When he finally speaks again, his voice is stronger. “Are you here to let me out of this box?” 

“You still don’t want to talk about this?”

This finally has Wade turning back around, offense written in every line of his body. “What more is there to talk about?! You fucking lied to me! You’re a child!” 

The words seem to bleed the rage out of him and he slumps, shaking his head. “Spidey, you turned me into the worst kind of evil douche I always want to kill. I had fucking child porn on my phone.” 

The words have Peter jerking forward a step, reaching for Wade. Wade steps back, shaking his head, but that doesn’t stop Peter from speaking out. “No! It wasn’t like that! I was legal in New York before I ever sent anything to you!”

“New York?” Wade scoffs, “Like that’s supposed to be enough? You _just_ turned 18 and I had pictures from months ago.” 

“Wade-”

“Are you here to let me out of this dump or not?” Wade interrupts. “I’m tired of this room and I’m fucking done talking.” 

Peter realizes then that Wade is going to walk out of here and leave him to wait endlessly for a text or call that will never come. Ever since he’d confessed, Peter has felt like an etch a sketch that’s been shaken too many times. His insides are a twisted mess, always making him nauseous at the thought of Wade. 

He doesn’t regret telling Wade the truth. He can’t, not when the only other option would be to indefinitely lie to Wade. It just hurts to have all that love taken away. He wants his big guy back. The one who would follow him around like a puppy during patrols and hold him tightly when a rescue went wrong. He wanted the Wade who became murderous at the thought of Peter being hurt and gentle at the realization that he’d scared him. 

“No.”

“No? You’re gonna tell me no? Huh, baby boy?” Wade gets louder as he walks over to Peter in three angry strides, “What are you gonna do, Peter? Tell me! Because I’d like to know how the fuck your goody-two-shoes ass is gonna keep me in here. Tell me!”

Standing in front of the doorway, Peter outstretches his hands, not to the sides, but in front of him so that he can place his palms just inches from Wade’s head. He wants the mask off so that he can see the emotion behind Wade’s words when he yells again because Peter knows that both of them are hurting. He reaches for his own mask instead. Without fanfare, he slips it over his head, the fresh air immediately cooling his face.

“Enough!” Wade snarls loudly. The noise itself startles Peter, but Wade is continuing in a rush and obviously not talking to Peter anymore. “Of course you think that now. No! NO!”

Wade whirls away suddenly, pacing to the right and then taking a sharp turn back to Peter.

“Wade, look at me, please. I’m trying to tell you that I’m sorry. I don’t know how to make it up to you, but please, can you let me try?” 

“Fucking no!” Wade gestures violently, head twitching to the side before he seems to focus back on Peter. “I want out of this fucking box, right fucking now, Peter. I’m done and I don’t want to talk about this.” 

“N-no! I’m not letting you out of here unless you talk to me!” Peter crosses his arms, trying to appear confident in the face of Wade’s wrath, “You can curse me out all you want, but I’m not letting you out of this room. Don’t make me use my strength, Wade.”

He must appear honest enough because Wade actually backs off a bit, his eyes pinched in a glare. 

“You don’t understand. _Everything_ I did, I did it for you.”

“ _Bullshit!_ Who ever told you that you had to depend on me for your happiness? Were you ever going to let me know that I apparently can’t make a mistake without you pulling the _suicide option?_ ” Peter isn’t trying for confidence anymore, he’s just too pissed off and that seems to be doing him just fine for courage, “We both did shitty, shitty things to each other, Wade. I agree that what I did was and is wrong, even worse than you but-!”

“Me? What the fuck did I ever do to you!”

“Just because I found out later does _not_ erase the fact that you weren’t capable of talking about your problems with me _like a real fucking person!_ Instead, you chose the easy way out, Wade. And you know what I think? I think you never thought we were actually going to work out.”

“Fuck. You,” Wade says hoarsely. He sounds on the verge of tears, or perhaps already crying, and the only reason Peter isn’t joining him is that he’s already had this conversation in his head too many times to count. “I’m getting out of here, Peter, one way or another!”

Peter almost doesn’t notice the gun pointed at his abdomen because, not only is he so focused on the scrunched lines in Wade’s mask, but there’s not even a tingle of spidey sense to suggest danger. “Wade… what?”

“Get the fuck out of my way, Peter. I’m not asking again! I’m getting out of this fucking box and I’ll go through you if I need to.” 

Peter cocked his head to the side, calm spreading over him at the continued silence from his spidey sense. “You aren’t going to shoot me.” 

A snarl rips out of Wade, quickly escalating to a scream. He turns and throws the gun at the wall, the safety letting it harmlessly clatter onto the ground. Peter jumps back, narrowly avoiding his body’s instinctive need to jump up onto the wall. His spidey sense still isn’t anticipating any violence directed at him. In fact, despite Wade’s obvious rage, it’s completely silent. 

There’s no sound in the room except Wade’s heavy breathing for a moment, then Peter steps back further, moving out of the doorway.

“You’re not going to shoot me. You’re not going to shoot anyone unless you have to. Do you remember the days when you struggled to not kill anyone? It was always your first instinct and in the beginning, I never thought you’d get to this point.”

“Then why the fuck did you help me?”

“Because you asked for my help.”

“That’s it?” Wade laughs harshly. “You really are that much of a bleeding heart.”

Peter almost says it. Almost admits to the near overwhelming emotions that bubble up anytime Wade comes to mind. But he chooses to ignore the insult instead. “You tried so hard, Wade. And you succeeded! I trust you with my life. I trust you with civilian lives. I can even trust you with criminal lives. Do you remember the last time we went patrolling together? You were so stressed and angry, but you didn’t kill anyone.” 

“I’m still a killer!”

“No, you’re not. You’re not a danger to anyone, so there’s no point in keeping you here. I just wish you would stop being a danger to yourself,” Peter says sadly. 

Cutting off his own snarl, Wade’s jaw and fists shake with clenched anger as he stomps toward Peter. Peter holds his ground, but all Wade does is shove him aside. He lets himself be moved this time, watching as Wade storms out of the room. 

That could definitely have gone better.


	23. Those Freaking Dicks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!
> 
> This is the second to last chapter!
> 
> So I'll be honest, the next chapter is already finished. It's with our beta right now (the wonderful and most perfect monsterleen!) and we'll probably go ahead and post it as soon as it's ready instead of waiting until next Friday. I hope you guys like it! It's been a wild ride.
> 
> Oh! And just as a teeny warning, there are a bunch of small time jumps in this chapter.

Wade knows he can step back into killing at any time. It isn’t that hard to shoot someone, after all. He just has to do it. The next stupid schmuck to get in his way will get the business end of his gun, just like it used to be. He would prove to Peter that he hadn’t changed, not really. He was still the same mercenary he always had been. 

**{We haven’t killed in, like, a year.}**

_{There’s always time to start again!}_

Irritatingly, the criminals must have unanimously voted to go radio silent because it takes more than an hour for Wade to get anywhere near some action. 

A big baddie who enters a church with a pistol drawn is his first target of the night. With a manic grin, Deadpool chases after him and kicks in the doors of the church. As far as fights go, there wasn’t one, but as far as murders go… 

 _{There wasn’t one of those, either. Fuck! I miss killing people…}_  

“Goddammit! Stop! Stop moving around!” Wade gnashes his teeth as his arm-locked victim thrashes around, “Fine, whatever!”

He knocks the butt of his gun into the man’s head, contenting himself with brain damage instead of splattered brains. He ends up tying the man up and leaving him face down in an alley. He doesn’t call the police, hoping that someone will come around and beat him to a pulp, or finish the job and kill him. 

**{You can’t even get yourself to shoot a gun now? What kind of mercenary are you?}**

_{That’s pathetic, you’re pathetic, you can’t even do your job, now?}_

The next person he tries to put down is an animal abuser. The guy was caught red-handed selling puppies to an illegal dog fighting ring. 

Wade presses the muzzle of his gun to the man’s forehead and takes a breath, “Night night.” 

Wade doesn’t move. The smirk from this man almost makes him pull the trigger.

“You can’t do it. Spent too much time running around with Spider-Man?” 

Wade knocks him out instead. 

**{You’re a waste of space, he deserved to die and you just let him go.}**

_{He mentioned Spider-Man! He mentioned Peter!}_

“He even ruined this for me, the asshole.” Holstering his gun, Wade ties this guy up, too. Walking out the door, he makes sure it’s locked behind him. Maybe he’ll get lucky and this guy will die of starvation or something before he manages to get found.

* * *

Wade only loiters at home long enough to kill himself once before he’s back up and out the door. He’s tired of his half-assed mercenary work. With the extra time on his hands, he might as well just finish Peter’s gift. 

The thought has him stewing in his resurging anger about what had happened at the Tower. All he needed was to get nano-tech for the fabric! Fucking, goddamned Tony Stark, ruining everything. Calling Peter to come get him, like he’s a recalcitrant puppy! 

**{You’re just mad because you miss him and you feel like you shouldn’t.}**

_{He’s too good for you, too good for us, even though he lied.}_

**{He’s always been too good for us, I told you that from the beginning.}**

_{He strung us along! That’s not_ **_too good_ ** _, that’s just a fucking dick move.}_

“Stop! He didn’t- No,” Wade shakes his head, ignoring the side-eyes he’s starting to get from the passersby. 

_{He didn’t tell us how old he was, even when he knew how you felt about rape.}_

**{We don’t rape.}**

“We didn’t rape anyone!” 

_{Isn’t that what it is if we fuck someone too young?}_

“We didn’t fuck him! Stop! I’m not like that and Spidey wouldn’t have let it happen!” Wade shakes his head, smacking his temple, hard. Unfortunately, it doesn’t shut the boxes up. 

**{If you really think that, why did you walk away?}**

_{Why did you let him see you kill yourself?}_

**{Why are you still refusing to talk to him?}**

Wade freezes, hands pressing against his temples, “Stop! I don’t want to talk about this!” 

**{We don’t need him anyway.}**

_{He’s a liar. We’re better off alone. Like always.}_

“Do I need to kill myself to shut you assholes up?” Wade shouts.

_{Almost certainly.}_

He straightens, hand slipping down to his holster, “I will.” 

**{Do it, then. We’ve got nothing to lose.}**

_{Just do it!}_

Wade pulls his gun up to his head, not caring that he’s still on the street, and the move has pedestrians scattering, screaming their little pedestrian heads off. 

**{Go to an alley, dipshit. They don’t need to see this.}**

He turns into a nearby alley and steadies the gun to his head, but the sound of his phone halts his finger just as he places it on the trigger. 

 

 **_Saturday 6:13 pm_ ** **Peter**

_Can we please talk when you’re ready?_

 

**{I wanna hear what he has to say.}**

_{Weren’t you going to kill yourself?}_

Wade drops the gun down to his side, thumping his head back against the wall, enjoying the slight shock of pain. “Fuck this shit. Maybe it’s time to actually let him talk to us?”

**{Wow, really?}**

“But first,” Wade pulls the gun back up to his head, “Fuck you guys more.” 

_{What?}_

“I’m tired of you dicks not listening to me,” Wade complains petulantly.  

 **{Since when is killing yourself a punishment for** **_us?}_ **

_{Really? You’re killing yourself to pun-}_

**_*BANG*_ **

Wade decorates the alley wall with blood and brain matter before Yellow gets to finish what he was going to say. It probably wasn’t anything worth hearing, anyway. 

* * *

His back is uncomfortably cold when he wakes up. The sound of sirens is ear splitting for the first few seconds, but after he waits for the tinnitus to pass, he can tell they’re not close by. Propping himself up on a wobbly arm, he looks at his surroundings. His position had dropped his corpse in the shade, which did leave him cold, but at least prevented the rank smell of death from settling into his suit. 

Rubbing at where the wound on his head had been, he checks the damage and discovers he’d been too quick on the draw. The gun had been too far from his head when he shot so now there’s a huge tear covered in gunpowder. With a grumble of complaint, he hurries to replace the damaged mask with a fresh one from his spares’ pocket. He only shot himself in the forebrain for a reason, didn’t want to wait too long to heal and wake up in a jail cell. Or a mental asylum, those are always fun. 

He’s got things to do, people to see! Except he doesn’t. He’s only got a half-finished gift for his definitely-not-boyfriend who he’s definitely not seeing anymore. When he walks out into the street, everyone is going about their business like there wasn’t a gunshot in the alley five minutes ago.

“If you guys hadn’t distracted me, I would’ve gotten that nano-tech before Iron Dildo could even say ‘I’ll shoot you in the kneecap, Wilson!’”

_{What distraction?}_

**{Screw you. We’re only saying what you would be thinking if you would actually stop and, you know,** **_think.}_**

“Do not start with me again!” He doesn’t have time to get distracted by the boxes again. He needs to find somewhere to get the nano-tech now that Stark Tower is out. 

**{What about Oscorp?}**

“What?” 

**{Didn’t we see something in the news about them working on nano-tech?}**

“You’re the only one who watches the news, White.”

 **{Okay,** **_I_ ** **saw that Oscorp has been trying to rival Stark with their new nano-tech projects. I don’t know if it’ll be as good as Stark’s, but it’s worth a shot.}**

 _{Yeah, unlike this guy. Not only are you not worth a shot but you obviously can’t_ **_make_ ** _any shots.}_

“My shooting is fine! It’s my targets that are the problem.”

**{ANYWAY! As I was saying! Let’s break into Oscorp.}**

_{That’s better than begging Stark.}_

“Begging Stark? That’s a terrible idea,” Wade gasps, clapping his hands to his mask covered face dramatically. More pedestrians side-eye him, but being the good little New Yorkers that most of them are, they scurry past him without actually saying anything. “I would _never_ do that.” 

**{Well, that’s a different tune.}**

“Yeah, okay, so I might have been thinking a little crazy while we were stuck in Stark Tower. Let’s be real, guys. Would I ever stoop that low?”

_{Yes.}_

**{Yes.}**

“Rude!” Wade huffs, “Fine, we’ll break into Oscorp and steal their stuff. The’ve probably got less security than Iron Fuck anyways.” 

_{What makes you think they have less security than Iron Man?}_

**{They’re less paranoid than a billionaire, that’s why.}**

_{It’s a multimillion dollar company, they should be paranoid.}_

“Hey guys, that’s not the point. I made it into the tower, so what are the chances that I won’t be able to make it into Oscorp?” 

**{Well, you’re a waste of space and a general disappointment.}**

_{Yeah, even Peter couldn’t tell you the truth. Probably disappointed with your face so he didn’t want to come out right away about his age or something!}_

**{That’s not even close to what happened, Yellow. Peter’s problems are Peter’s problems.}**

_{Peter’s problems are also our problems, though, according to Wade.}_

“Can we not talk about Peter right now? I don’t want to think about him. I know I’m making his suit, but I don’t want to think about what he did.” 

**{We could kill ourselves again.}**

“No, we’ll do that later.”  

_{Hey Siri, remind Wade to kill himself later today!}_

“That’s not how… We don’t even have-! You know what, never mind. What I need right now is a distraction from my miserable existence that doesn’t end with me having to clean up blood from my own cabinets,” Wade scrubs his finger through the partially congealed splatters behind him. “So, let’s go leave blood on some other people’s cabinets.”

* * *

Stumbling through the front door of his apartment, Wade lets the door hit the wall and bounce back with a slam as he throws himself on his couch, clutching an armful of bloody fabric. “Ugh, oh em gee, I dunno about you guys, but I’m so glad we didn’t have to go through all of that!” 

Wade drops his bundle of fabric down on the couch next to him, ruefully examining his nearly disconnected arm. It looks like someone had taken a giant fork to it, digging great lines in his suit and the flesh underneath. 

“Huh, I wonder what caused that?” 

_{Wow, that’s some lazy writing, authors!}_

**{Eh, it was probably some kind of security door or something. I can see those causing wounds like that.}**

“Yeah, that makes sense.” Wade lets his head fall back against the couch. It’s gonna be a while before he can really use his arm and he’ll need it to start finally putting the suit together. 

_{Oh hey! Siri forgot to remind you to kill yourself. Ah, it’s okay. I’m here to do it for them!}_

**{Good idea. Maybe the arm can finish healing while we’re dead. That’s always the best!}**

Stretching out his back as he goes, Wade leans forward until he can tug off his katanas and a new automatic he picked up on his way out of Oscorp. The second his babies are safely on the floor, he flops to his side that isn’t mortally wounded. 

“Can we just sleep, for once?” Wade mumbles into the cheesy smelling cushion, “It’s not like killing me will do me any good. I won’t be done healing until midnight at the least.”

His whole body is aching and he’s hungry as all hell, but sleep sounds too seductive right now to get up.

_{All it takes is that pistol on your hip! No need to move around. Come on, you know you want to do it!}_

Wade swats a hand at his head. Yellow’s box refuses to move from in front of his eyes, though. 

_{Come on, no! You said you would kill yourself later! It’s later. No copping out, loser.}_

**{You did promise, you know.}**

Wade groans, reaching down to pull out his gun. “Fuck, fine! But we’re eating a freaking elephant when we get up!” 

“I can’t believe this doesn’t go into this part of the suit! What the hell, that would be the perfect spot!” Wade grumbles later the next day, arm all healed up and the bullet wound from killing himself long gone, trying to cram another piece of the nanotech fabric into a slot on the suit he’s putting together for Peter.

**{You’re creating the suit, you’re the one that has to fix it.}**

_{You have to be the less attractive, blobfaced Tony Stark for our baby boy.}_

**{He’s not our baby boy.}** “He’s not our baby boy,” Wade and White say in unison. 

_{No, he’s always going to be our baby boy. Don’t lie to yourself, White.}_

**{No he’s not. He lied to us.}**

“Whatever, we’re not going over this again! I’m still pissed you guys made me get blood on the nanotech fabric!” Wade bitches, muttering a triumphant _hah!_ as he finally gets the suit piece where he wants it. 

_{Oh, bitch, bitch, bitch. Get over it, already!}_

**{You were gonna need to wash it all anyway. There was already guard blood on it.}**

“You guys are the bitches!” Wade shouts, offended. “Anyway, _bitches,_ it’s finished! Let’s go on a celebratory hero stalk through the streets. This took for-fucking-ever and nobody even had to read it!” 

Wade drops the finished suit onto the coffee table, brushing scraps of fabric off his lap and onto the floor. “Let’s blow this joint.” 

_{WooohooO!!! I freaking love explosions! Do we have any grenades?}_

**{Don’t literally blow it up. We just went through a shit ton of work for that suit! I don’t want to have to do it all over again.}**

Grabbing his katanas up off the floor, he slips them on and walks out the door. “Nah, I don’t think I even _have_ any grenades right now. We’ll have to do that some other time.” 

* * *

“Wade!” 

Wade’s still out wandering alleys and looking for crime when the distant shout of his name through the air makes him freeze.

_{Gasp! It’s Spidey!}_

**{Are we ignoring him or talking to him?}**

Wade doesn’t get the time to make a choice before Spidey is swinging down to land in front of him in that iconic superhero landing.

Straightening up from his crouch, Peter steps toward him, reaching his hand out. He freezes in the air when Wade twitches back away from him. “Wade?” he repeats, softly.

“What do you want?” Wade’s question comes out aggressive.

Peter’s hand drops to his side, shoulders slumping, “Wade, please? Can’t we just talk about this?” 

**{It’s time to hear him out. It was only a few days ago that you said that.}**

_{Hey, I remember that! You killed yourself in an alley to “punish” us. Hah! That was funny.}_

A snarl rips its way out of Wade’s chest, causing Peter to pull back even further. 

“Look, just-” Wade snaps out, “Not here. Come over to my apartment in a few days. Okay?” Despite the extended olive branch, Wade can’t help but still be angry.

But the words have Peter straightening up, lenses of his mask opening wide and grinning wide enough to be seen even through the covering. “Yeah! Yeah, I can do that. What time?” 

“Whenever. I’ll be home all day,” Wade waves him off as he turns and hurries away. 

“Okay! I’ll see you in a few days, then,” Peter’s words echo through the alley behind him. 

_{Think we’ll get to fuck him?}_

**{Wade’s this angry at him and your mind is** **_still_ ** **in the gutter?}**


	24. We Could Be Dicks Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final chapter! And we're not gonna leave you hanging, guys. Happy ending ahead!
> 
> This has been an amazing adventure, and it feels so incredible to have finished it. These last couple months have been hard for all three authors and this story sometimes felt like it would never be finished, but here we are! I hope you all enjoy what we made for you.

_{I liked it better turned away from the window.}_

**{Peter’s not going to care which way it’s facing. Do you think that'll win him over or something? You in your shithole apartment, next to the place where he saw your brains blown out? Get real!}**

_{Do we really want it to be the first thing he sees when he walks in here, anyway?}_

“Oh shit. We haven’t actually gotten to the reconciliation yet, have we?”

**{Put it in a box.}**

Wade looks around frantically, hoping that fanfic magic will have a box appearing on his couch, even though he knows there wasn’t one there all morning. “What box? Do we even have any boxes? Boxes that aren’t you guys, anyway?”

_{Uuuhhh… I dunno. Check under the couch?}_

Wade’s already turning and leaning over, completely intending to lift the couch up to check for a box under there when White interrupts. 

**{Jesus Christ, am I the only one with brains around here? The couch isn’t even an inch above the floor, there are no boxes hiding under there. Check the bedroom or the closets!}**

Fifteen minutes of increasingly irritated searching later, Wade finds a box hiding under a pile of clothes in his closet. It’s the perfect size, but a little rough around the edges. Neatly folding the suit and placing it inside, he closes the lid and pulls out his neat little collection of duct tape. For when you need to add that extra pizzazz to your kidnapping! Once it’s all neatly wrapped up, he leaves it on the bed so he can resist the urge to rip the whole thing to shreds.

Heading out to the living room again, he lets himself pace for a moment. Stopping in the middle of the room, he turns to face the window he knows Peter will be coming through. Wade sucks in a breath through his nose as he quickly runs a hand down the front of his suit. He’s been anxiously moving stuff around his apartment since four-thirty in the morning. Not cleaning, but rearranging, and Peter should be here any minute. 

“We’re gonna be fine,” the words are awkward coming out and the silence following shows it. “We’re going to be okay no matter what happens, you two.” He nods his head to convince himself and is surprised when it works a bit.

**{I-wha… huh?}**

“I thought about it all last night and I realized something. We gotta think about this as a mission!” he explains as he bumps the defeated looking couch back into its original position, “Peter wants to talk to us, that’s all we know for sure. We’re trying to work this situation out and, no matter what shitstorm we make during it, we’re gonna make it out alive.”

_{Uh, big stinking problem with that whole idea, cute as it is. We’ve never done diplomatic missions, you idiot! What, you think your glass half full is gonna make Peter think you’ve changed within the last week since you saw him?}_

**{This is gonna go terribly. I can feel it in my outline.}**

Peter’s shadow darkens his window moments before Peter does. His fingers wrap around the edge of the brickwork, horror movie style before he peeks his bambi-eyed mask over them. 

Clearing his throat and straightening his mask, Wade walks stiffly up to the window and opens it like the gentleman he is. Spidey steps on the frame and slinks in feet first without a word.

_{Is it just me or is baby boy even hotter since the last time we saw him?}_

“He is- I mean, shit!” Wade slaps a hand to the back of his head, trying to laugh off the blurted words that are very obviously not directed at Peter.

“Wade, it’s fine. It’s not like I don’t know about them.” Peter scratches the back of his head as he glances around at the rearranged furniture, “Uh, so- I mean, did you want to talk about the fight?”

Wade nods rapidly and keeps on nodding when he can’t think of anything to say.

_{Are we a bobble-head now? Oh, that’s fun! We should find a shrink ray!}_

**{Say something.}**

“I don’t know what to say!” Wade exclaims at White. “That’s useless advice!”

“Wade?” 

Wade whips his head back toward Peter at the inquiry. “Uh, sorry, baby boy. I’m just- I’m just a little stressed. Look, before we talk, can I just grab something real quick?”

“Oh. I mean, yeah, that’s fine.” Peter pulls off his mask, nervously half smiling at Wade. 

_{Present time?!}_

**{Wow, really? We should** **_definitely_ ** **talk to him about everything first.}**

Wade waves vaguely toward his bedroom, pointedly ignoring White. “It’s just in there. I’ll be right back?”

Peter’s half-smile grows into a full one at Wade’s hesitation, and he nods, “Yeah, okay.”

“Okay, yeah!” Turning away, Wade all but runs to his room. 

**{That was not smooth at all.}**

“Shut up!” Wade hisses at White. “Look, I know I’m fucking this up. I just don’t know what to do! I know it’s probably not true, but I don’t remember ever having to fix a relationship after a breakup fight.” 

_{Yes! We’re gonna take him back??! Please, please, please!}_

Wade snatches the box off his bed. “I dunno, Yellow. Don’t get your hopes up. Let’s give him this and just see where it goes from there.” 

He doesn’t move toward the door, though. Staring down at the box in his hand, he nervously chews on his lip. This isn’t going to be the easiest conversation, but Wade _doesn’t_ actually want them to never be together again. 

This is a chance. 

Gripping the box tighter, he nods decisively. Might as well stop standing around in here navel-gazing, get out there, and make things happen. 

* * *

 

“I made you a present, baby boy.” As Wade comes out of his room, Peter can see he’s holding a box behind his back. It’s neatly enough wrapped and but taped together with enough duct tape to be edging toward ridiculous. 

 He grins, reaching for Wade, “Oh yeah? What kind of present?”

“Ah ah ah, close your eyes! I want it to be a surprise!” Wade’s grin is so large that Peter thinks he’s going to break his cheeks if he tries just a bit harder. 

Obeying the directive, Peter puts a hand over his eyes and holds the other one out. For a minute he doesn’t feel anything, no movement of air to say Wade’s moving, nor a box being placed in his palm. When he does finally sense movement, it isn’t what he expected. His skin tingles as he feels Wade move into his space and then he’s being kissed gently on the mouth. It’s short and chaste but still makes him feel warm inside. 

Wade places the box in his hand, “There you go.” 

“Let me guess. It’s a box?” Peter jokes, eyes sparkling up at Wade. 

“No no! The present is _inside,_ baby boy! Open it!” When Peter opens his eyes, Wade is all but dancing in excitement as he waits for Peter to open the gift. 

Grinning, Peter turns his attention down to the box in his hands. It’s only about 3 inches deep but it’s about a foot and a half both wide and long. Turning it this way and that, he tries to find the easiest way to open. Wade has gone a little overboard with the duct tape. 

Giving up on finding an easy spot to peel the tape off, Peter grips at where the wrapping is bunched up on the side, digging his finger in and tearing the wrapper off. Luckily, most of the tape comes off with the paper and he’s able to easily pull off what remains of the box with little effort. 

Turning the box over again, he glances slyly up at Wade. Bringing it up to his ear, he gently shakes it. There is a soft thumping sound. The box only has a little room for whatever it is to move around and the sound is soft. 

“Is it clothes?” Peter shakes the box again, listening intently.

“Come on! Just open it, open it!” Wade pleads. 

Finding the opening on the box, Peter finally lifts the lid enough to peek in. There’s fabric, but it’s folded and too smooth a surface to make out any distinct shape. Oddly reflective, it appears to be some kind of red and black silk, though it isn’t until he fully opens the box that he can see it’s stretchy material.

Stepping over to sit on the couch, Peter holds the box down on his knees in front of him, to better inspect the strange fabric. Glancing up at Wade’s excited expression, he smiles again. “What’s this? It _is_ clothes.” 

Wade groans in frustration. “Peter! Pull it out! You’ll love it, I promise.” 

Laughing, Peter finally reaches in and lifts the mystery clothing item out of the box. He inhales in shock as it unfolds in front of him. It’s a redesigned Spider-man costume. The colors aren’t quite right and the layout is a little different, but there’s no mistaking what it is. 

The red looks almost muted compared to his original design, soaking up the light in an eerie way. Peter runs his fingers over it to reinforce how silky it truly is. He clutches it shakily, then hastens to smooth it back out, shoving the box off his knees so he can lay the torso flat. The webbing resembles a true spider’s web; slung between two thick black accents, the lines look too delicate as if they might break in a breeze. When Peter strokes a hand down the neckline, they’re flexible but wiry, and he knows they’ll never break, only bend to his body. 

“Wade,” Peter whispers shakily, flicking his gaze up to Wade before looking back down at the suit. “You- you made this for me?” 

Standing quickly, he shakes the suit out, extending his arms up and out so he can see the whole thing. 

“Wade, you didn’t have to. I mean- why did you, why would you-” 

“I was pissed at everything that happened. I was pissed at the lies, but I wanted to do this for you. I still care about you, Peter!”

“Are we... “ Peter looks up at Wade, sadness in his eyes as he gestures with the suit. “So this isn’t us getting back together?” 

Wade blinks, but shakes his head, “I guess it’s time for that talk, huh? No, we’re not back together. Our whole everything is messed up, Pete. We didn’t do it right. And I’m hurt, you really hurt me.” He leans back on his heels a bit, “I don’t fully trust you, not anymore. But I still care about you and I want us to find a way to make it better. If that means we can’t be together-” Peter jerks, causing Wade to stop. “Peter, if we can’t be together, then I still want to be friends.” 

“I want us to work it out, Wade. I promise I’ll be better! I-” Peter steps forward into Wade’s space, tentatively placing his hand over Wade’s chest, “I want to figure it out. I care about you a lot and I just- I want to work it out.” 

“It’s going to take time, you understand that, right?” Peter nods furiously, wanting to show Wade just how much he understands the work this is going to take. “And no sex, I don’t want to have sex right away just because you’re of age now. I still feel- I still feel insecure about that.” 

“I know, I’m so sorry, Wade! We will go slow, we’ll talk it out, just please, please, can we try?” 

A small chuckle leaves Wade’s lips, “I thought it was obvious I was giving this a try. I literally said it was going to take time, and we’ll figure it out.” His eyes meet Peter’s and Peter can’t help the bright smile stretching his lips. 

He can’t believe Wade is letting him do this. He really messed up and God knows how long it’s going to take to fix it, but Wade’s willing to try and that’s all that matters. Excitement rushes through Peter’s system and he grips Wade’s shoulders, pulling him closer. 

He leans in and up, pressing their chests together tightly, planting an enthusiastic kiss on the other man. 

“Mmph,” Wade mumbles against his lips. Pulling away, he repeats himself, “I’m still not happy about it.” 

“I know,” Peter shows him a small smile, “But we’re going to work on it, yeah?” 

“Yeah.”

Wade leans down, wrapping his hands around Peter’s backside, fingers digging in. He presses their lips together again, this time letting his tongue slide against Peter’s lips. 

Peter opens his lips slightly, letting Wade press in. His grip on Peter’s hips tightens even more, and Peter knows he’s trying to leave bruises. Peter pulls barely an inch away, then drags his teeth along the bigger man’s jaw, nipping gently.

“Baby boy, if you keep doing that, I’m going to lose my mind and make a lie out of telling you I wanted to wait and work on our trust first,” Wade rolls his hips once, proving how much Peter affects him. 

Whining, Peter leans reluctantly away, but doesn’t release his hold, “We can stop. I can stop, because I’m an adult who can control his dick for five seconds, but we don’t have to do anything more than this. Please?” Peter’s voice is high and breathless as he presses forward again, looking for friction. He receives a low grunt in return and Wade widens his stance enough to place Peter between his legs. 

“Yeah,” Wade says, breathless. “Yeah, okay.” Wade lets Peter move against him for a second, his tight grip on Peter’s hips pulling him closer. “But if we’re going to grind, we’re going to do it right, baby.” Wade pulls away, putting about a foot between them. “You’re okay with a little nakedness?” 

Peter quirks an eyebrow and eyes him up and down, “Are _you_ okay with it? We can stay like this if you’d prefer.”

Biting his lip, Wade mulls over Peter’s words. It seems to be a non-issue, though. Wade smiles, eyes flicking to the side for a moment. He nods at something Peter doesn’t hear and starts to undo his pants. “I want to make you feel good, Petey. I just want to make you feel good. But you need to tell me if you’re uncomfortable, alright?” 

Peter nods, impatiently tugging at Wade’s suit, “Mmhm.” 

“No no, baby boy, I want you to say it. Say you understand.” Peter pauses, his eyes coming up to meet Wade’s. 

“I understand, Wade,” he blinks slowly, a smile brightening his face. 

“You’re such a minx, I’m going to eat you up.” Wade pulls his dick free from the kevlar prison, and it bobs in the air. He chuckles, “It’s a bit of a leather stretcher.” 

“Can I- can I touch it?” 

“Of course, baby boy, if you want to.” Peter reaches forward, nimble fingers wrapping around the head. His thumb brushes the top, and Wade’s already leaking. Wade hisses in a gasp of air at his touch. A blush suffuses Peter’s face and he pulls away, embarrassed. 

“What’s wrong?” Wade asks. 

“You’re just so much bigger than me, I don’t- I-” Peter shakes his head helplessly.

“Hey,” Wade reaches out toward Peter, curving his hands over the smaller man’s shoulders, “You don’t have to be insecure, I love your dick. Would it help if I pulled mine back in?” 

Oh no, Peter absolutely doesn’t want that. They’ve gotten this far, even with them not being officially back together and there is no way that Peter would ruin the moment. 

“No, I don’t want you to put it away! I just, can I take mine out?” Peter looks down at the obvious boner in his spandex, “I think it will help my insecurity.” 

Wade nods, grinning. At the obvious sign of approval, Peter presses the button on his suit to loosen it, the whole thing bunching around his shoulders. He tugs it off quickly, shucking his boxers with it. He twitches when the cold air hits his dick, and it bobs a little. The way Wade’s eyes light up as he drags them down Peter’s body feels empowering and his dick jerks as his excitement grows. 

“Mmm, baby boy, you’re so pretty.” Wade quickly tugs off his gloves and reaches forward, wrapping one hand around Peter’s waist and letting the other trail down his hip.

A blush covers Peter’s cheeks again and he ducks his head. Peter’s eyes lock onto Wade’s own dick, erect against his suit. He reaches down, wrapping his hand around it fully this time. “I want you to feel good.” 

“Oh baby, I’m sure you’ll make me feel good. But I want to make you feel good, too. Can I touch you?” Wade pulls his hand back from Peter’s waist a little, reaching down once the smaller man nods. “I’m going to take good care of you, okay?” His palm is flat against Peter, and he steps up against him. 

Wade’s hand encloses his own dick right up against Peter’s. The sensation causes Peter to gasp. 

Having Wade this close to him is a bit daunting, his size looks like it’s nearly double Peter’s. He knows that’s not true, but Wade’s obviously got a few inches on him. Wade doesn’t wait, pumping his hand around them both.  

Pleasure shoots down Peter’s spine at the slightly rough drag of Wade’s scarred skin around him and the hard, hot steel of Wade’s dick pressed against him. He knows he’s not going to last. He strangles a moan, and Wade tuts, voice a little breathless, “Come on now, baby boy. You know I like to hear you.”  His fingers press them together a little tighter and he flicks his wrist a little faster. 

Peter squeaks, “Oh fuck,” and he rolls his head forward onto Wade’s shoulder. Wade swipes a finger over Peter’s head, and it’s over. He’s coming all over Wade’s hand and dick with a full-body shudder.

Wade bites out a snarl, hand tightening around them both briefly before he lets go of Peter’s dick, smearing the cum all around his own dick, stripping himself quickly, “That’s so fucking hot, Peter, goddamn.”

Peter keeps his eyes fastened on Wade’s hand, fascinated by the pearls of pre-cum welling out of Wade. He’s rough with himself, swiping his hand over the head to pick up more of the slick drops. Peter is fascinated, fingers drawn up almost irresistibly to touch. Wade groans as Peter’s fingers smear curiously over the head. Biting out a curse, Wade jerks and cum erupts over Peter’s fingers. 

“That’s it, Wade. Oh, that’s perfect, I’ve wanted this for so long.” Peter drags his fingers down the side of Wade’s dick, fascinated by the twitch it draws from the other man. 

“Oh, fuck, Peter, fuck,” Wade gasps, slumping forward against Pete, shuddering as he drags his hand over himself one more time. 

“I love you,” Peter murmurs into Wade’s shoulder, wrapping his arms around Wade’s lightly trembling form. 

The words have Wade tensing, straightening up. “What? Peter, you-?”

Peter meets Wade’s eyes, serious. “I love you, Wade. I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you how old I was. I want this to work between us so bad. Can we- are we… I know you said you wanted to wait, but I really want to be with you? I just don’t want to lose you.”

“No more lies?” Wade's voice is low when he asks. His eyes are flickering back and forth between Peter’s.

“No more lies. You know everything now,” Peter insists. 

Wade snorts out a laugh. “Well, I don’t quite know everything about you.” 

“What?” Peter blinks, startled.

“Hmm,” Wade hums, pulling Peter’s hips close again, grinding them together, “I’m looking forward to all the lovely sounds you make when you’re inside me.” 

“Wade!” Peter’s face flames in embarrassment and he thumps the other man in the shoulder.

Wade lets himself fall back, laughing.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All credit for the amazing picture goes to ignacia! The picture is of Peter's new suit!


End file.
